An Unexpected Choice
by Jessy16
Summary: This story is set after Lydia's marriage, and just as Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy are returning to Netherfield.Everything is canon up until this point, except that we find that Lizzie has a new suitor.  What will happen when her mother interferes?
1. Chapter 1

_Here is my new story - it is a work in progress but I only aim to have about ten chapters and have written more than half. I will be posting every sunday until it is finished. Special thanks to Gayle and Wendi for listening to my rants, reading my work & offering suggestions, and Gayle again for BETA-ing!_

**An Unexpected Choice**

**Summary**

_This story is set after Lydia's marriage, and just as Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy are returning to Netherfield._

_Everything is canon up until this point, except that we find that Lizzie has a new suitor. What will happen when Lizzie finds that she holds the interest of two men - will she choose Mr Darcy? And what will happen when her mother decides to interfere?_

_There will be angst but no violence._

* * *

**Chapter One**

Delicate fingers trembled across perfect embroidery. Rosy lips quivered before white teeth bit down on them to still them. Brown eyes shimmered for a moment with euphoria that could not be hidden.

Elizabeth Bennet felt as if she needed to do everything at once. Laugh, cry, scream, jump, run, and hide. How had she come to this? Never would she have believed that just the knowledge that _he_ was even now riding towards Longbourn, could cause such a flurry of emotions within her.

_Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy._

He was the man that she had vowed to despise forever.

The man that she had sworn never to dance with.

The man that she had insulted and rejected and pushed away at every opportunity.

The man she loved with every passionate beat of her young heart.

Around Elizabeth, a buzz of excitement could be heard. Her mother was loudly and shrilly demanding that Jane smile and flirt and make Mr Bingley regret her. Her sister Katherine was floating around in excitement that such important personages were coming to call after a time where they had been shunned by society. Her sister Mary was loudly and rudely declaring that she did not understand what the fuss was about. And Jane was lost in her own thoughts as was Elizabeth herself.

Had a thunderstorm blacked the world at that moment, Elizabeth would not have been aware of it. Her thoughts were such that attendance to anything else was impossible. She craved his presence like one would thirst for water in the desert. She had not seen Mr Darcy since the fateful day at Lambton, when he had happened upon her after she had read the news of her youngest sister Lydia's elopement. And though he was kind and gentlemanlike, and comforted her by his mere soothing presence, Elizabeth had been certain that she would never see Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy again.

How could a gentleman of his consequence in society, one of the most sought after matrimonial prizes in the whole of England for his wealth and appearance, continue to seek the acquaintance of not only a mere country gentleman's daughter with no dowry to speak of, but also one whose sister had eloped with an officer of the regiment; an officer that Darcy had long resented for a recent injury to his own sister?

Hope had bloomed within Elizabeth's heart that all might not be lost when she had received confirmation that it had been Darcy _himself_ who had arranged and enforced Lydia's marriage, even though there had never been any intention on the part of the officer in question to go through with the marriage that he had initially promised.

After weeks of trying _not_ to think on her growing affection for the gentleman in question lest she be disappointed, even though late at night tender remembrances would attempt to plague her, suddenly the full force of her emotions flooded within her, and Elizabeth was hard pressed to disguise her happiness that Mr Darcy was _here_.

That she was totally, completely and irreversibly in love with Mr Darcy, Elizabeth could no longer deny, even to herself, though she had tried time and time again to do just that. She was finally forced to admit, not least from the palpitations that her heart was making, nor the sense of completion that she was experiencing in knowing that soon she would be able to look upon him again, that her favourable feelings towards the gentleman had been getting stronger and stronger since their meeting in Kent. After his proposal, and her refusal, she had read his letter explaining his actions that she had found repugnant. From that moment onwards, Elizabeth had begun to come to a new understanding of Mr Darcy, and from that new understanding dawned a new respect, which led easily to deeper feelings when he had behaved so gently towards her at Pemberley when she had visited there with her aunt and uncle.

"I must say that I hate the sight of him, but I am determined to be civil – if only because the man is a friend of Bingley's." Her mother's shrill voice, filled with contempt for the subject of her discussion, pierced the fog in Elizabeth's brain, and the cruel words registered like a blow. Elizabeth felt that her heart stopped beating in panic, her breathing became laboured and her cheeks pink.

She opened her mouth to speak, and when no sound emerged, she closed it again. A whirl of emotions rushed through Elizabeth as the time of meeting him again drew nearer – but she could not find the words that would force Mrs Bennet to be polite to Mr Darcy. She wanted to tie a gag around her mother's mouth, or else rush out to the entrance hall and stop him from entering, but instead, she sat in her chair, outwardly composed though a storm raged inside her.

Too soon, yet not soon enough, the gentlemen were announced, and Elizabeth rose and curtsied, her eyes lowered to his feet. She did not know what to expect and almost feared looking directly at Darcy. What if he had come to Longbourn merely as a courtesy? What if he had only come to prove to himself that he had conquered the folly of falling for her?

Suddenly her eyes met his, and for one perfect moment, everything was right in the world of Elizabeth Bennet. A completeness that she had not realised she was lacking, suddenly filled her steadily beating heart, though to the discerning eye there was nothing special about the look. If truth be told, Darcy's eyes were filled with unease – as if he did not know what to make of the situation in which he now found himself – but the way that they sought hers and softened ever-so-slightly was enough for Elizabeth.

Darcy, himself was in a state of agitation. He was so unsure of Elizabeth, so uncertain if she would accept his attentions – he had made the grave mistake once of not taking the time to understand her, resulting in her devastating rejection of his marriage proposal – he could not do that again. She had softened towards him at Pemberley; she had even aimed her dazzling smile at him on more than one occasion, but was that enough? Did she care for him enough to accept him? Darcy knew that he could not bear it if she refused him again – for if she did, he would live his life miserable and alone.

He glanced across at Elizabeth, his breath catching as he glimpsed her lovely form for the first time in all these long weeks. She was more beautiful than ever – her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed enticingly. His gaze instantly softened, though he knew that he must drag his eyes away from Elizabeth and greet her mother.

Mrs Bennet refused to make it easy for him though. He knew that Elizabeth would be impressed if he could be civil and attentive to her family, but her mother almost refused even to acknowledge him, so Darcy did not know how to proceed. So, instead of doing what he wanted more than anything else in the world, namely to sit beside Elizabeth, take her hands and declare his love... or, if he were to exercise propriety, to even speak to her without constraint, Darcy spent the entire visit to Longbourn as silent as the grave, his eyes fluttering across to Elizabeth as often as he was able to take his fill of the sight of her.

Elizabeth was embarrassed by Mrs Bennet's continued rudeness towards Mr Darcy. Though she was disappointed in his silence, she could not even find the energy to blame him for it. How could he even entertain the idea of renewing his addresses to her if this was the treatment he was to receive from her family? Her mortification grew, until Elizabeth felt that her face might catch fire if she did not escape the confines of the room. She stood abruptly and excused herself from the room, rushing out to the back garden, her glance of apology towards Darcy understood and accepted.

When she returned to the house, the gentlemen had taken their leave, and a stab of disappointment shot through her.

He had not waited for her.

"Lizzie," Jane's soft voice floated to Elizabeth as her sister entered her bedchamber, where she was being readied by Harriet, her family's maid, for the assembly this evening. Elizabeth looked at her sister's reflection in the mirror, and her face broke into a wide, dimpled smile. Every time she saw Jane, her classic, angelic beauty only reflecting the purity and kindness within, Elizabeth could not help but smile. Though she had never been of a jealous nature, Elizabeth knew that could anything have provoked the emotion, it would have been that she herself had not inherited even half of her sister's exquisite beauty, but Elizabeth had never found it in herself to resent Jane – in fact, she adored her beyond the mere bond of sisterhood. Jane and Elizabeth would be best friends and confidantes for the rest of their days – no matter what happened in their lives from this point on.

Elizabeth held out her hand to Jane, who padded quietly over to her, looking in the mirror. "Jane, you look magnificent. Mr Bingley will not be able to take his eyes off you tonight."

"Oh Lizzie, I do not believe that he... that is to say, he may not have any intentions of renewing our acquaintance, even though he was so kind when he called yesterday."

"Sweet Jane, Mr Bingley loves you – of that I am certain. The way he stared at you yesterday can only prove my point. I believe that tonight will make everything clear, and I believe that you may have some wonderful news before much more time has passed." Elizabeth's eyes sparkled at her sister, her hands moving up to artistically rearrange one of the tiny yellow rosebuds that adorned her secured brown curls.

"Thank you Harriet. You have outdone yourself in taming this wildness. I require no further assistance as Jane will stay to help me with my dress." Thus dismissed, a smiling Harriet left the room.

"We shall see," Jane replied demurely, studying her sister's reflection. "But now let us talk of you, Lizzie. You are making a great deal of effort for tonight's dance; I do not think I have seen you this excited since the Netherfield ball last year. I believe there is something that you have not told me, sister..." Jane watched as Elizabeth's cheeks turned a deep red, and her expressive brown eyes looked down at her fingernails. "I see I have touched upon something, Lizzie. Could it possibly be Mr Charlton? He has shown a keen interest in you, as you know, and our mother would be ecstatic for you to marry him."

Elizabeth glanced up sharply. Mr Charlton was a rich tradesman who had come to Hertfordshire a month prior to visit with his friends. The ladies in Meryton could talk of nothing but his wealth, rumoured to be fifty thousand pounds, which was a figure likely only to increase with his lucrative business dealings. The only thing lacking in Mr Charlton was a title... and perhaps to some, his youth. Approximately eight and thirty, Mr Charlton was a tall, brawny man, his face and forearms tanned from too much time spent in the sun. His hair, once blonde, was now greyed with increasing age, though his features were pleasing, with shrewd green eyes and a charming smile. But he seemed to favour Elizabeth, dancing with her on every occasion, conversing with her and calling at Longbourn too frequently for her taste. She had done nothing to encourage his attentions, beyond the usual civility that was part of her very nature.

"Jane, I have not encouraged Mr Charlton as you know very well. I confess that I could not contemplate marriage to him. He is amiable enough I suppose, but you know that I want to marry only for love. I am not the sort of girl who could tolerate a life of suppression and obedience. He speaks to me in a manner that suggests I am a child in need of reigning in. Until you just said that, Jane, I confess I had not seriously considered that he could want to marry me. What am I to do?" She looked imploringly up at her sister, concern etching a line in her forehead as her earlier excitement dissipated.

Jane laughed softly, her gentleness soothing as she smoothed the wrinkle on Elizabeth's brow. "Do not worry about that. You will just refuse him, much like you refused our cousin Mr Collins, and Mr Darcy, poor man. Which brings me back to the subject... Mr Darcy." Elizabeth made a valiant attempt to appear nonchalant as she stood and stepped into her gown, a pale yellow concoction of the softest muslin which her aunt Gardiner had purchased for her in London.

"What about Mr Darcy?" She turned so that her back faced Jane, and her sister commenced the task of fastening the array of tiny buttons at the back of the gown.

"You may think that I did not notice, Lizzie, but I did. The way you watched him... and he watched you. I even considered that... but, it cannot be true, as I know how much you dislike him... yet..." Jane paused, her expression thoughtful as she considered what she knew of the relationship between her sister and the gentleman in question. "I believe I must ask... though the very idea seems ridiculous - do you love Mr Darcy, Lizzie?"

"I cannot answer that question, Jane."

Elizabeth had recovered her composure by the time they arrived at the dance, though she was unnerved to realise that it was _here_, on a night much like this one, that she had first met Mr Darcy. That night she had cared little what he thought of her, though his slight and his rude comments had stung her feminine pride. This night however, Elizabeth did not know how she would endure if he _did not _ask her to dance – if she could not find a moment to speak to him. She almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of the situation – here was _she_, Elizabeth Bennet, who had sworn never to depend on anyone over her own independence, centering her enjoyment of this evening on one gentleman's behaviour. They had come full circle.

The Meryton Assembly Hall was filled. Men and women, young and old, married and unmarried, had come to attend the assembly tonight. The fluttering of silks and muslins and crisp cotton, was muffled by the sounds of laughter, lively conversation and festive music. The senses were overcome by the colours in the room, from pure white and darkest black, to the brightest red and every colour in between – the gowns, the jackets, the jewellery, the turbans and feathers – a rainbow of colours to be admired.

More than usual, the single ladies of Meryton had dressed carefully, for tonight there were a plethora of rich, single men present – at least, more than the country town usually entertained. They had been practicing their best feminine wiles for weeks now, hoping to catch the eye of one Mr Henry Charlton the rich tradesman staying with the Lucas' family. And now, the added interest of the sudden return of Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy to the neighbourhood had everyone in a frenzy of excitement.

When Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy entered the assembly room, it was like the first time that they had been there. The music suddenly stopped and the room at large turned to look at them. They looked magnificent, turned out in the height of fashion, and every single woman there wished to entrap them.

The gentleman, however, had eyes only for the two eldest Bennet girls, Bingley immediately moving towards Jane to claim the first two dances, and Darcy following in his wake to speak to Elizabeth. He had yearned for the chance to be close to her for two months... longer if one did not count the short time she had spent in his company at Pemberley and Lambton. He ached to hear her sharpen her rapier wit on him, smile that dazzling smile for him, sing and play for him, and laugh with him. Darcy would endure any hardship, if it would only put Elizabeth in his exclusive company.

His steps faltered as he neared her – he was so struck by her beauty tonight. "Miss Elizabeth," Darcy greeted her as he bowed towards her and Jane, who was occupied with Bingley. Elizabeth's eyes met his, and he was lost. "Miss Elizabeth, may I say... that is, you look particularly lovely tonight." He blushed at his hesitation, and he cursed his inability to speak flattering words, though this he truly meant.

"Thank you, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth spoke huskily in reply, her face as flushed as his. Those words coming from his lips, uttered in his mesmerising deep voice, swirled over her like the sweetest wine. Unsure what to say next, Elizabeth spoke playfully, shocking herself as she heard the words that spilled forth. "I am happy that you decided to attend our assembly tonight. I hope that you will find it more to your liking than the last time you were here." Her eyes held his, dancing with a mixture of teasing impertinence and horror that she was speaking to Mr Darcy this way.

To her relief, a short burst of laughter erupted from him, and his teeth flashed at her as his dimples transformed his face. "Nicely done, Miss Elizabeth. I do not believe that you shall ever fail to remind me of my bad manners on that occasion." His eyes sparkled with a humour that Elizabeth had not yet observed, displaying an ease of character that she had never even guessed he could possess.

She laughed with him. "I apologise Mr Darcy, I spoke in jest. Though, you have to admit that you definitely did not find pleasure in that first foray into Meryton society."

"Much to my continued regret, Miss Elizabeth, I assure you." His eyes held Elizabeth's in a meaningful gaze, and the smile disappeared from her face in shocked intimacy. Had they been alone, Elizabeth was sure that something exquisite would have followed... would he have kissed her? She could not even deny to herself that she wished for nothing more than to feel those soft lips on hers.

Elizabeth chided herself – such unladylike thoughts were not for a dance, in fact, they were not acceptable at any time.

Darcy was trapped. Indeed, Elizabeth was the most lovely woman in the room tonight. In a gown of pale yellow muslin, her figure was light and graceful, and her face shone with blissful wholesomeness. In her hair, yellow rosebuds were artfully arranged in her bouncing curls... enough to drive a man to distraction. Had she placed them there just to taunt him? Darcy fought the urge to reach out and touch one of the curls that kissed her slender, white neck.

Instead he cleared his throat and spoke. "I intend to make up for my incivility at the last such occasion. I implore you to assist me, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's right eyebrow lifted in a look of pure archness. "How would you have me assist you, Sir?"

"Why, by dancing at least the first set of the evening with me, if not further dances when you find yourself without a partner?" Darcy smiled, his body already tingling with the anticipation of being close to Elizabeth for at least an uninterrupted half hour.

The disappointment welled within her, threatening to disturb her spirits when Elizabeth had to decline. "I am sorry, Mr Darcy, I am already engaged for the first and second sets." So he would not be able to touch her for the next hour. "Perhaps the third set?"

Darcy nodded, grateful for at least that small pleasure, and for the fact that she was willing to dance with him at all.

The music started, signalling the commencement of the first set, and Elizabeth allowed Mr Charlton to possessively claim her, his hand clamped firmly around her forearm as he steered her to the floor with the other couples. Elizabeth could sense Darcy's dark gaze on her as she walked away, and throughout the dance, found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on her enraptured partner.

As soon as Darcy took her hand in his to lead her to the dance floor, Elizabeth was lost. An ocean of swirling sensations filled with the deepest desires of her heart, totally engulfed her, and did not release her until long after the dance had ended.

Darcy cursed the preposterous fashion of ladies wearing gloves, though he had never before found cause to complain. He wished that he could feel Elizabeth's skin upon his, the warmth of her hand within his, and feel the fragility of her bones under her softness.

No words were spoken for what seemed a long time; on this occasion Elizabeth did not feel the need to force speech. Instead she gazed into his eyes and secretly delighted in every touch, every brush, every breath that he took.

"Miss Bennet, my sister was sorely disappointed when you left Lambton so swiftly those few months ago. She asked me to convey her regards, and she hopes that you and she can very soon renew your acquaintance," Darcy spoke quietly as he danced close to Elizabeth.

She smiled at him, only a slight twinge of embarrassment surfacing as she recalled the circumstances of their rapid departure – namely, her sister's elopement. "Miss Darcy is a lovely young woman, and a credit to you, Sir. I would be honoured if she would count me among her friends."

"Thank you," he whispered huskily, his breath coming close to Elizabeth's ear and causing her to shiver with pleasure.

"There is something that I should wish to thank you for, Mr Darcy, regarding the business that took us from Lambton. I shall not speak more of it here, but I want you to know that you have my sincerest thanks."

After the dance, Darcy found himself thinking on everything that had happened that night. That Elizabeth was accepting of his attentions, he could not doubt. She was not a woman who would toy with a man's affections – nor would she pretend an interest that she did not have.

To every other man tonight, Elizabeth had been friendly and polite, much like she had always been at social engagements. She was a popular partner, dancing with anyone who asked her, and never more than once. Darcy had tried to secure a second dance, but she had already been promised. So instead, he had watched her... and been content.

Still, he was concerned about her thanks to him. He was sure that Elizabeth knew that it had been he who had brought about her sister's marriage and prevented the ruination of her family. Was it just gratitude to him that made her amenable to him? Darcy found himself resting his head in his hands on the carriage ride back to Netherfield, his heart aching at the possibility that this was the cause of Elizabeth's acceptance. He wanted to rush to Longbourn and propose to her this moment, but Darcy knew that he could never be content without knowing that she cared for him – even a little – that her caring could one day grow into love.

Mr Charlton was no fool. He noticed immediately that Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy was enamoured with Elizabeth – the way his eyes followed her around the room, drinking in the very sight of her throughout the entire ball.

However, until Elizabeth accepted said gentleman's offer for a dance, he had not seriously thought that she could hold any regard in return. How could a woman of Elizabeth's spirit, wit and vivacity, have any feelings for one as dull, haughty and silent as Darcy? He watched closely as they danced together, and though they said little, Elizabeth's blush and the way her eyes fused with his concerned him.

Elizabeth was his! He did not wish to be thwarted in gaining her. In marrying a gentleman's daughter – even a poor country gentleman such as Mr Bennet – Charlton knew that he could elevate his status in society. His money should be inducement enough for Elizabeth, and he would take her without a dowry.

Mr Charlton rubbed his hands together, his eyes gleaming as he imagined Elizabeth on his arm at balls and parties, her beauty and wit would be the talk of London, and the very idea of making her his wife in every sense of the word sent an ache of lust through his entire body.

He could delay no longer. Charlton knew that if he did not act immediately, he could well lose her to Darcy. He would call on her at Longbourn on the morrow, and if she did not accept, he would appeal to the mercenary Mrs Bennet to win Elizabeth's worthy hand.

_Love it? Hate it? Please comment..._


	2. Chapter 2

_Here is chapter 2. Thanks for the comments everyone! Glad you are enjoying. I will be posting every Sunday. Thanks to Gayle for Beta-ing and Wendi for cold-reading. You girls are legends._

**Chapter 2**

Mr Darcy mounted his horse, determined to take an early morning ride before he was forced to be confined in a carriage for his journey to London. Long into the night he had thought of Elizabeth, and when he finally fell into sleep, his dreams had also been of her.

"I shall require my carriage shortly on my return, Simms," he told his groom, before he commenced his ride. "Please be sure to have everything readied for our departure." With everything organised, he left.

This morning, Darcy's mind was on nothing but Elizabeth. She had smiled at him – not just once – but throughout their entire dance, and other times during the assembly when he had caught her eye. Darcy was frustrated that he had been unable to converse with Elizabeth alone again after their shared dance set, for every time he attempted it, he had been thwarted by Mr Charlton. His eyes narrowed at the memory of the way that man had looked at Elizabeth and acted around her – as if she were his property.

Darcy wanted to warn Elizabeth; Charlton was not a man to be trusted, as he knew only too well. In business matters, he had attempted to cheat Darcy years ago, and only through Darcy's own fastidiousness with keeping records, had he been able to avoid losing a great deal of money. As with Wickham, Darcy had felt at the time that the man deserved another chance – to prove that he could be scrupulous and successful legitimately. But, whether he had done that or not, Darcy still had the proof required that could ruin the man in the eyes of the _ton_ if it came to that.

As Darcy rode from Netherfield, he cursed his bad fortune that his solicitor had urged him to come to London on a matter of business. He desired nothing more than to go to Longbourn and see his beloved Elizabeth – this day, and every day for the rest of his life. He shook his head at his own folly those long months ago when he had first met her. How could he ever have deemed Elizabeth Bennet unworthy to be his wife and the mistress of Pemberley? Elizabeth could not possibly do _anything_ more important than to bring some happiness, liveliness and sparkle into the lives of everyone who resided there. For that alone, she was to be treasured above all.

* * *

Elizabeth Bennet was not usually a young woman to succumb to daydreams and girlish fantasies, but this morning her devoted heart could not help it. She almost floated over the pathways and grass on her early morning walk, a fluttering feeling within her, like the soft wings of a million butterflies gently flapping against her skin, at the remembrance of dancing in _his_ arms last night. She had set out at dawn, unable to sleep longer for the excitement that filled her.

This morning the world was bright, but Elizabeth, for once, did not think on the beauty of her surroundings, though the scents of blossoming wildflowers, spicy tree bark, and wild herbs washed over her and were delightful regardless. The sky was the perfect blue hue, the grass, vibrant and fresh beneath her feet, and the flowers— pink and white and yellow and purple— scattered haphazardly and beautifully across the open fields and tree lined paths.

In her mind, Elizabeth was in his arms, their hands touching and sparking even through her gloves. She remembered his grace and poise as he had moved in time with her and the other couples on the dance floor, and the way their bodies had brushed as they walked around each other, and she found herself shivering in delight. When he had placed his hand at her back to guide her away from the dance floor, Elizabeth was shocked – she had felt scorched, and even on her return home she had caught herself checking the back of her dress for singe marks, laughing at her foolishness as she did so. And every husky word that he had spoken during the night was a caress, filling her with hope that one day they would be together.

She ran along the path, needing to rid herself of some spare energy, and only when she was breathless and warm, did she slow. It was advantageous that she stopped when she did rather than just a few seconds later, for as she turned the next corner, she spied Mr Darcy on his horse, very close to her. She would have collided with the large beast, and then where would she have been?

"Miss Bennet," Mr Darcy athletically dismounted and came to stand in front of Elizabeth, while her thoughts caused her cheeks to flush.

She smiled at him, looking into his eyes as she curtsied. "Mr Darcy. You are riding out early after such a late night at the assembly."

"I could say the same about you Miss Bennet, though I am very happy to have happened upon you. I have received a letter from my solicitor and am away to London this morning."

"Oh." Elizabeth's disappointment was acute and she felt it deep within her heart. She could not respond any further.

"May I walk with you a short while? I would not wish to interrupt your solitude." Darcy spoke, delighted with her reaction. Elizabeth had not been able to hide her disappointment from him for a moment. _She must feel something for me_, Darcy thought.

"Of course," Elizabeth recovered and walked beside him, for a while silent as she let herself revel in the feeling of just being beside him. Then, before she could stop herself, she found herself asking the question that she most wanted an answer to. "Shall you be returning to Netherfield, Sir?"

Darcy smiled, his warm brown eyes coming to rest on Elizabeth's downturned face. He waited until she glanced up at him, and caught her eyes, ceasing walking as he spoke so as better to impart his meaning. "I shall be returning in _only a few days_, Miss Bennet. I will only remain in London long enough to sign some papers, complete some business with my solicitor, and see my cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, with whom you are acquainted. I shall not stay there for longer than needs must as I have some particular _business_ in Hertfordshire that I wish to settle as soon as I return."

Elizabeth, caught by the intensity of his gaze and unnerved by the hidden meaning of his words, felt herself gasp, and looked down, unable to maintain the searing connection. "I see..." she whispered.

"Miss Bennet, may I have the pleasure of visiting with you privately a few days hence, with a view to subsequently speaking to your father?" Darcy held his breath, knowing that his tone had been abrupt when it should have been gentle, sharp when it should have been soft. When Elizabeth did not answer immediately, he did not know what to think, so he quickly apologised in confused words for it. "I am sorry for my abruptness, Miss Bennet. I know not... that is, I wish to..."

Elizabeth, who until this very moment had struggled to allow herself to comprehend the meaning of Darcy's words, suddenly looked up and smiled at the look of pained confusion on his face. She found herself thinking about how endearing he was – all traces of arrogance and pride gone, and in its place, just a man speaking to a woman he admired; for Elizabeth could no longer hold any doubt that Darcy still cared for her. When he returned, he would ask for her hand in marriage and they would become engaged. How full her heart would be – how full it already was, even at the thought that it would happen in just a few days.

"You need not apologise, Mr Darcy. I am very happy that you will be returning to Netherfield soon, and I shall be delighted to grant you a private interview." Her eyes sparkled up at him, her teeth gleaming white and her dimples deep in her happiness.

Darcy inwardly sighed with relief. Elizabeth would soon be engaged to him. "I thank you, Miss Bennet. I should leave you now to make haste to London, so that I may return for our visit." He took her gloved hand and pressed his lips to it, letting them linger there slightly longer than propriety allowed."Until then, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth watched dreamily as he mounted his horse and rode away, fighting the urge to press her still tingling hand to her lips.

* * *

Elizabeth returned to Longbourn, a longer time having elapsed than was usual for her walks. She did not even consider that it would matter, being the morning after a late social engagement. Her mother and sisters enjoyed lying in whenever they could, and never more so than after a ball or assembly.

So she did not expect the commotion that greeted her on her return. Mrs Bennet's wailing voice could be heard from the gate. "Where is that ungrateful child? Mr Bennet, I wish you would speak to Lizzie about these unnatural rambles... what did you say? No, you will only encourage her in her disrespect. I do not know what we shall do with her." Elizabeth's steps slowed, and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and flee back to the fields so that she could escape this unwelcome reality. _What have I done now?_ She thought in exasperation, rolling her eyes. Usually she would find amusement in these situations, however this morning, Elizabeth did not know if she could stand a lecture, not when her emotions were so raw with her love for Mr Darcy. Ever since she had refused Mr Collins, Mrs Bennet's behaviour towards her least favourite daughter had been strained to say the least. She never lost any slight chance to remind Elizabeth what a disappointment she was, and that if they were ruined, it would be her fault.

It was with some apprehension that Elizabeth entered the house, removing her bonnet and gloves calmly as Mrs Bennet rushed out to scold her. "Lizzie, where have you been? Mr Charlton visited over an hour ago to speak to you."

"Mama, you know that I always go out for a walk in the morning," Elizabeth reasoned softly.

"You would do better to stay in bed and get your beauty sleep, Miss. Heaven knows you will never marry if you do not make more of an effort. I forbid you to walk out again without one of your sisters."

"But Mama, you know that none of them enjoy walking out in the mornings. I do not understand the nature of the problem." She put down her outer garments and walked into the breakfast room, filling her plate with a small breakfast, trying to ignore Mrs Bennet's closely hovering form.

"The _problem_... the problem..." Mrs Bennet sputtered, her face turning red with anger. "Of course _you_ would not understand the problem, unnatural child. Mr Charlton is to return in one hour. Go and make yourself presentable, and you had better be down here on your best behaviour when he arrives." She took Elizabeth's plate from where she sat at the table and handed it to the passing servant.

"Mama, I am hungry. Surely I can ready myself after I have eaten?" Elizabeth spoke with barely restrained rage at her mother's unfair treatment of her. Her comments stung – Elizabeth wished she could understand what she had ever done to cause this resentment of her, by her own _mother_ no less.

"_No_, you shall not eat until luncheon. _After_ you have spoken to Mr Charlton. And Missy, this had better not become a repeat of the Mr Collins situation. _Listen_ to me..." Her screeching, demanding voice faded into the background as Elizabeth rose from her chair and walked quickly away, tears pricking behind her eyes. Her heart sank as she realised that her mother believed that this morning Mr Charlton would propose to her. _What would she say? And how could she explain to Mrs Bennet? Would her mother ever forgive another refused proposal?_ Elizabeth felt sick as she reached her room, and she reclined on her bed, clutching her churning stomach as she waited for the nausea borne from anxiety to pass.

She opened her book of Shakespeare's sonnets and pulled from it the one link to Mr Darcy that she possessed. She knew the words of the letter by heart by now, so Elizabeth had no need to read it. Instead she clutched it to her pounding heart and prayed for strength.

* * *

Elizabeth sat at the insistence of Mr Charlton, who stood over her, looking down at her. Already she felt suffocated by him – truly a man who expected obedience from a woman. Her cheeks heated in the cool room as she felt herself fill with humiliation.

Then she almost laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of her position. The least submissive woman in the world – sitting in her own family parlour, with her eyes downturned, her hands clutched ladylike in her lap, awaiting a proposal from a man who truly believed he would be accepted. Why did she find herself in these positions? She asked herself in exasperation. She had never encouraged any of them – Mr Collins, Mr Darcy or Mr Charlton – so why did they think that they could harass her this way?

Her eyes glazed over at even the sound of her beloved Darcy's name in her mind – she told herself that if she could just get through this nightmare, her next proposal would be accepted with blissful exhilaration. The way she would feel on that day would make her forget the unpleasant and embarrassing scene that she knew she was about to endure.

"Elizabeth. I am sure that by now you fully comprehend the purpose of my visit to Longbourn this morning. I must say that I was disappointed by your absence when I called earlier," Mr Charlton spoke in a haughty tone, which incensed Elizabeth.

"It is my morning ritual, sir, to walk out in the mornings before I break my fast."

"Well, that shall have to change," he muttered. "I prefer to sleep late in the mornings."

"Excuse me, sir?" Elizabeth looked up, astonishment coating her tone as she let the words wash over her. _Did men never actually ask for consent? Did Mr Charlton think of her as already won?_ She let her gaze travel over him. The man was full of his own self-importance, in a rude way that Elizabeth had not before realised. He was dressed in what appeared to be his best outfit: beige breeches, a white shirt and grey waistcoat and jacket. An expensive gold watch hung from his pocket.

His hands were clasped casually behind his back, his chest puffed out, his face gazing down at Elizabeth as though he were viewing a particularly fine specimen of a horse that he would dearly like to purchase.

"Do not misunderstand me, my dear. I shall allow you to walk out some mornings, when I am feeling energetic enough to accompany you. But London is very different from the country, Elizabeth, and you must be prepared to change some of your _rituals_ as you call them." Elizabeth's heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest – she was so angry now she felt like she could scream – and she wanted nothing more than to slap the man before storming from the room, never to have to look at him again.

"You presume too much, Mr Charlton. If you know me at all, you must understand that I am a very independent woman. I do not take kindly to being told what I can and cannot do, _especially_ by someone with no connection to me whatsoever."

Mr Charlton finally looked into Elizabeth's eyes – eyes that sparked fire at him. _Gad – she was magnificent_. He knew that he would have great difficulty in holding back his manly urges until their wedding night. She was a woman unequalled, passion in her every word and look. Even now, she fought him, his husbandly command. But soon, Elizabeth would spend that barely repressed passion on loving him... and she would have no need to disobey his commands on these other trivial matters.

"No connection, Elizabeth? Surely you jest. I intend to take you for my wife as soon as may be. Do you think your father would consent to a short... a very short engagement?" Mr Charlton stepped closer to Elizabeth, behind her chair and bent over her. One finger ran down the uncovered length of her arm, while his breath feathered over her neck, his voice husky and affected.

Nausea rose – bile churned deep within her stomach and threatened to expel itself, an attempt to purge Elizabeth from feeling so sullied by him. She stood abruptly, his chin crashing into her shoulder as she did so, causing him to curse in an un-gentlemanlike fashion.

"Sir, since you did not deign to even ask me if I would consent to become your wife before you took it upon yourself to molest me in such a disgusting fashion, I am no longer going to wait to be asked. I most wholeheartedly _refuse_ your offer. And I would thank you not to address me so informally."

With regal poise, Elizabeth delivered the verbal blow, her chocolate eyes glancing disdainfully at Mr Charlton who began to approach her again.

"You cannot be serious. I have more money than you or your family could ever _dream_ of. You would live in London; you would accompany me to plays and balls and assemblies. You would have clothes of ten times the quality and quantity of your present wardrobe, and jewellery... and pin money. What other man could give you all this?" he spat the words in disgust.

"You think that I _care_ for clothes and jewellery and pin money? I do not love you, Mr Charlton. In fact, as of a few minutes ago, I do not even respect you. _That_ is what is important to me in a marriage. That... and the freedom to control my own actions. If I want to walk - I _will_ walk. If I want to _run_ - I will do that too. No man shall _ever_ tell me otherwise."

She opened the door and eyed Mrs Bennet disdainfully as she strode past her, her resentment overflowing – at Mr Charlton, at her mother, and even, for once, at her father for not taking enough control in matters of the household that she had been forced into such a reprehensible scene once again. "Elizabeth... get back here this instant!" the screeching voice of her mother came from behind her, and Elizabeth felt her arm grasped in a desperate grip.

She turned and glared at Mrs Bennet. Then she wrenched her arm from her hold. "Do not even speak to me of it. I shall _never_ marry him." Her calmness of tone belied the tumultuous storm of emotion that welled with Elizabeth. She stepped away from her mother and walked carefully to her room, at any moment afraid that she would break down. _Mr Darcy, where are you when I need you? _she thought shakily as she retreated. What she would not have given at that very moment to step into the warmth of his strong arms and have his comfort encircling her – protecting her with his love.

* * *

Mr Charlton stormed out of the house, ignoring Mrs Bennet's fluttering and apologies. He was furious, more furious that she had rejected him than by her words to him. Her words were irrelevant.

If anything, Elizabeth's spirit made him want her more. She was even lovelier when she was angry, if that were possible. Those deep, chocolate brown eyes sparkled with life, and hidden depths of emotion. She was a woman magnificent.

_Was it Darcy?_ He wondered, scoffing at the idea. Could a woman such as shebe reserving her desire for Fitzwilliam Darcy? Would he be the lucky man to uncover all that passionate intensity, that if channelled to the correct avenue would calm her? _No_! Charlton would not allow it. Elizabeth Bennet would be _his_! He would marry her before Darcy had the chance to stop it – and Charlton had no doubt that if the gentleman in question wanted to stop it, he could only too easily do so. He began to curse the day that he had ever cheated Fitzwilliam Darcy!

_Please do not forget to comment. Your comments keep me going!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to everyone for the lovely comments. I hope you enjoy chapter 3. Thanks to Gayle and Wendi for all of their help._

**Chapter 3**

"Elizabeth, come down here this instant," Mrs Bennet screeched some time later. Elizabeth had retreated to her chamber following Mr Charlton's fateful proposal, feeling physically ill by the thought of his lecherous hand as it had travelled down her arm, and trembling in disgust at the memory of his breath so close to her neck.

She scrubbed her neck and arm until they hurt and turned an angry shade of red. Then she sat at the upstairs window staring out and holding Mr Darcy's letter – the only link to sanity in her life.

She steeled herself for a confrontation with her mother, for even Elizabeth could not disobey a direct order. The servants would be gossiping enough as it was – she could not provide any more fodder for their use. At any rate, she knew that she would have to speak to Mrs Bennet at some point; she reasoned that it might as well be now so that she could move on from all this unpleasantness.

Jane met her in the hallway and gave her a sympathetic smile, taking Elizabeth's cold hand in her own and rubbing it between her warmer hands. "Lizzie, what has happened? You look positively ill," she asked in growing concern, noting the red marks on her sister's neck and arm.

"Mr Charlton proposed, Jane. I refused. Mamma is livid. I believe I am about to receive a very large lecture about duty." She laughed softly, her usual good humour winning out, unwilling as she was to worry Jane.

"I shall be by your side, sister dearest. Perhaps she will not be so harsh if you have my support." Jane squeezed Elizabeth's hand as they descended the stairs together.

"I highly doubt that Jane, darling, though I thank you for the concern. Fear not, I can abide this – I have had much practice."

She drew on every ounce of strength that she possessed, straightening her spine and encasing her emotions. It would not do to break down in front of her mother. No, Elizabeth needed to remain firm and strong. She took a deep breath and entered the parlour where Mrs Bennet awaited her.

"Jane, I wish to speak to your sister alone," Mrs Bennet spoke, dismissing Jane with a commanding wave of her hand.

Jane glanced at Elizabeth. "I would like to stay, Mamma," she whispered.

"More disobedience!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed. " I do not know what you girls are coming to, but I intend to put a stop to it immediately. You heard me, Jane."

"Jane, do as she says. I will speak to you later." Elizabeth offered a smile to her sister as she rolled her eyes playfully, and Jane silently retreated from the room, guilty to the last for leaving her sister to deal with this alone.

"If Mr Bennet were feeling well, Elizabeth, he would surely be speaking to you himself. I know that he supported you in your refusal of Mr Collins, but Mr Charlton is a man ten times his consequence and a very eligible match."

"Pappa is not feeling well?" Elizabeth glanced up sharply. "What is wrong? Does he need the doctor?"

"Forget your father for a moment. I am speaking of Mr Charlton. I insist that you accept him." Like a queen, Mrs Bennet flounced over to the chaise and seated herself, fully expecting Elizabeth to obey her.

"I will not marry Mr Charlton." Elizabeth spoke quietly but firmly, raising her chin as she did so. Outside the window, she could see Jane and Kitty walking in the garden, the sun shining on the beautiful day that she had been enjoying just short hours earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago. Elizabeth drew strength from the folded up letter that rested against her breast.

"What did you say?" Mrs Bennet's tone was dangerous – belying stillness – deadly and precarious; the look in her eyes like a snake ready to strike, only to sink its fangs into the prey that lay before it. Elizabeth took a step back almost unconsciously, the lump in her throat causing her to swallow over and over again.

"I refuse to marry him, Mamma, and nothing you say will make me change my mind." With that declaration Elizabeth turned, and stepped toward the door, determined to make her escape as quickly as possible.

"You will remain here, Miss, and you will listen very carefully," Mrs Bennet approached, steel in her voice that Elizabeth had never before heard. Hysterics were gone, the usual screaming and wailing momentarily abated. This was worse – Elizabeth did not believe that her mother would ever forgive her for this. She turned back and faced her mother, her lips pursed, chin raised and eyes narrowed – her fighting stance. She did not speak, instead waiting patiently for Mrs Bennet to continue.

"You, my girl, have no notion of what is good for you. First you refuse Mr Collins – thinking only of yourself and not what the rest of your family would have to suffer when your father is dead. Now you refuse a man _ten times_ Mr Collin's consequence – a man who has shown nothing but consideration for you – singling you out on every occasion, though I cannot begin to imagine why. A girl like you should not be so selective, Elizabeth; heaven knows you have little beauty to recommend you, and with your impertinence and disobedience, you are lucky that any man has ever considered you worth his time."

"I will not stand here and listen to this. I beg to return to my room." Elizabeth felt tears pricking behind her eyes, the jibes stinging with every well-aimed verbal blow.

"I give you _one day,_ Elizabeth – _one day only_ – and at the end of that time, I expect you to have a different answer for Mr Charlton. If you do not accept him, I shall expect you to make your home elsewhere."

Elizabeth gasped. But she refused to let Mrs Bennet see her cry. "I would rather live on the streets of London than to marry that revolting man. No matter how much time you give me, I will _never_ capitulate."

Mrs Bennet's hand met the surface of Elizabeth's cheek with a resounding slap, and Elizabeth's trembling hand came up to cover the area, imprinted with an ever reddening mark and already throbbing. She ignored the look of remorse that instantly crossed her mother's face, and her fawning apologies as she turned quickly and left the room, fleeing outside to the safety of nature where none would disturb her.

* * *

There was nothing but pain.

Hers was a world gone mad when everything before had seemed so sane.

Elizabeth rested against the trunk of a willow tree, hidden by the drooping leaves from view of any person that might happen upon her path.

She breathed heavily. In... out... in... out. Trying to catch her breath from the run that she had achieved to get to this place, at the time uncaring that anyone might see her.

Around her, the sounds of nature called to her inner spirit – birds twittered in the branches near to her head; the soothing scent of the fragrance of nature manifested in the breeze that engulfed her.

Only then did she let the tears fall – her only outlet in what had turned out to be one of the worst days of her life.

"Fitzwilliam..." she whispered his name, forbidden to her, and was filled with warmth at the intimacy she felt in even thinking of his given name. _Would she ever be able to use it? Would she ever hear him say her name? Would he call her Elizabeth? Lizzie? Dearest? Darling? Would she ever have the right to go to him and place her head against his chest and feel the warmth of him as he comforted her, his lips on her hair as he murmured words of his love? _ Her heart overflowed with her love for him and the torment of not knowing for certain if the future would bring them together.

"Come and find me, my love. Take me away from here." A glow came from within and Elizabeth knew, with no sense or reason, that wherever he was, Mr Darcy could hear her.

* * *

A lingering ache.

It shot through him – foreign and indescribable – stemming from he knew not what.

Darcy sat in his study in his London home, the papers that had been brought to him by his solicitor spread before him.

He could see her as clearly as if he were standing in front of her. His lovely Elizabeth.

Darcy reached into the small pocket of his waistcoat and took out the ring that he had retrieved from his room upon his arrival. He reverently gazed down at the cool gold band, with its sparkling ruby and encrusted diamonds – the ring that he had chosen for Elizabeth, when he was in London awaiting her sister's wedding.

Before returning to Longbourn, Darcy had not dared hope that she would accept him, so he had not tempted fate by taking the ring with him to Hertfordshire. Now, he determined that it would not leave his person until he could place it on her finger – where it belonged.

Suddenly, Darcy felt the pain in his heart intensify, and he could have sworn that he heard his name being spoken. He knew instinctively that it was _her_ – Elizabeth was calling for him.

Darcy pushed back his chair, scribbling his signature on the remaining papers which he had already read and called for his steward. He still had work to do before he could even think of returning to Hertfordshire, but he was determined to finish it as soon as was possible so that he could be back by her side in a few days' time.

* * *

Mr Bennet had not attended dinner that evening as he was still feeling unwell. So the meal had been a very subdued affair; Elizabeth, quiet and pale as she merely pushed the food around her plate; Mrs Bennet, haughty and sullen; and the rest of the girls, picking up the tense undercurrent that seemed to threaten to engulf them all.

"I do not know what will become of us all, indeed I do not. Girls, I will have you know that you will have nobody to blame but your sister Lizzie when we are turned out of our home by Mr Collins after your father dies." Mrs Bennet glared at Elizabeth who could not bring herself to look up from her plate, her cheeks burning in humiliation.

"Mamma, please?" Jane pleaded, watching Elizabeth with deep concern.

"Jane, do not feel sorry for her. Elizabeth does not deserve your regard. She does not deserve _any_ of your regard, girls. Your sister has yet again thrown away a perfectly good marriage proposal to a man who could have made us rich beyond our wildest dreams. But, your sister, being so high and mighty and selfish as to the needs of her family, did not think about us – only of herself and what she wanted."

"I cannot bear this," the whisper was barely audible in the now silent room. Nobody moved so much as an inch – Jane, Mary and Kitty were all in shock, and Mrs Bennet was silently fuming. Elizabeth stood, the scrape of her chair on the hard floor causing her to wince as it resounded throughout the room – dramatic in the silence. "I shall be in my room."

She barely heard her mother's parting blow as she quickly escaped the room. "You are not to walk out tomorrow, my girl. I forbid it!"

* * *

Elizabeth woke early, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed, dried tears on her cheeks. She sighed as she glanced at herself in her looking glass and scrubbed the remnants of last night's sadness from her face. _When had she turned so missish?_ Elizabeth asked herself, trying to laugh off the unsettled emotion that churned just below the surface of her understanding.

She turned her face this way and that, examining her profile for some explanation of why Mrs Bennet thought that Elizabeth had so little to recommend her. Her mother's words of yesterday hurt her – made worse by the repetition of a lifetime of similar comments – like the sting of a bee, once so easily forgotten, but many times difficult to recover from. _A girl like you should not be so selective, Elizabeth, heaven knows you have little beauty to recommend you, and with your impertinence and disobedience, you are lucky that any man has ever considered you worth his time. _Elizabeth knew that she was nowhere near as beautiful as Jane, what with her classic beauty and that blonde hair, and those sea blue eyes. But she had never thought of herself as unattractive – to her eye there was at least nothing _displeasing_ about her face. Elizabeth blew out a frustrated puff of air, chiding herself for her vanity. She dressed quickly with the assistance of the family maid – up long before the rest of her family and padded barefoot down the hallway to her father's room.

Still, no matter how valiantly she attempted to ignore it, an unwelcomed thought plagued her. _What does Mr Darcy see in me?_

When Elizabeth entered Mr Bennet's room, all thoughts of romance and vanity fled. From her first glimpse of her father lying abed, his face pale and his brow moist with sweat, Elizabeth was shocked. Two days ago she had noticed nothing amiss, yet now her father appeared to be very ill indeed. Mr Bennet's valet bowed to Elizabeth as she frowned down at her father's side. "Has the doctor been summoned, George?" she asked anxiously, placing a cool hand to the ailing man's forehead.

"No, Miss. Mrs Bennet did not think it necessary yesterday."

"Please have him fetched here as a matter of urgency. My father seems very ill."

Elizabeth held Mr Bennet's hand as his eyes opened, and a familiar twinkling sparkle entered his blue eyes. "Lizzie, my dear. It is good to see you."

"Pappa, you look so unwell. I have asked George to fetch the doctor. How are you feeling?"

"Better now that you are here, Lizzie. But enough about an old man's illness – I heard the commotion yesterday. What has your mother done this time?" He squeezed Elizabeth's hand tightly for a moment, and she was instantly reassured, though she was certain that her father did not know of what had occurred regarding Mr Charlton.

"It is of little consequence, Pappa, just another of her matchmaking schemes. I am more concerned for you." Elizabeth smiled, her free hand stroking her father's forehead in soothing motions.

Mr Bennet chuckled. "Who was it this time, my girl? I am in dire need of some sport, and Mrs Bennet's antics have never disappointed me."

Elizabeth coloured. She hoped that her father would support her refusal of such a wealthy man as Mr Charlton, and she almost decided not to tell him for fear that he would not. She paused as she searched his laughing eyes.

"You know that you can tell me anything, Lizzie? I would never force you to marry against your will. In fact, I would refuse to _allow_ you to marry anyone unless you could _both_ convince me of your attachment. I am a selfish man, my Lizzie – I intend to keep you with me for as long as is possible."

"It was Mr Charlton, Pappa. He proposed yesterday, and I refused. He makes me uneasy... and I am afraid that I cannot love him... not like..." her voice trailed off, and she glanced sharply into her father's shrewd eyes, hoping that he did not notice her slip. She did not intend for anyone to know of her love for Mr Darcy – only if and not until something was decided between them.

"Ah, Lizzie, that is the way of things, is it?" He touched Elizabeth's cheek as she looked away, blushing with embarrassment. "Well, I will not press you for the name of your suitor; however, if you feel that you would like to confide in your old Pappa, then I will be available for you. Though I pretend selfishness and wish that you could remain with me always, I want nothing more than to see you happy, Lizzie. I just hope that the man you have chosen is worthy of you."

"Oh Pappa!" Elizabeth fought back tears of love. With Mr Bennet's words, all of the anxiety about her future and her family's expectations of her disappeared. Her father would never allow Mrs Bennet to force Elizabeth to marry Mr Charlton – he would be by her side and somehow she would find the strength to wait out her mother's anger. "I believe the man in question will be speaking to you very soon." Her eyes lit with a brilliant light that illuminated all of the joy that Elizabeth felt within.

"I am glad, child." Elizabeth leaned down to kiss Mr Bennet's cheek and then sat beside him in comfortable silence, giving him the gift of her companionship.

* * *

Sometime later, the screeching of Mrs Bennet's voice startled her husband awake. His gaze caught that of his favourite daughter, and they both laughed as the heavy steps of Mrs Bennet ran down the hallway.

"Hill, Hill..." she called out to the family housekeeper. "Jane, Jane... he is come. You must ready yourself, he is come..." Then came an exasperated groan and the gentle tones of Jane's voice.

"I had better go and see what is occurring, Pappa. I shall return when the doctor arrives."

"Be sure to pay attention, Lizzie..." Mr Bennet called out as she exited the room. "I should be very disappointed if you cannot tell me in every detail what amusement is to be had at Longbourn today."

With a deep sigh, Mr Bennet fell back against his pillows, utterly spent. He was truly ill – pains shot down his arms and legs, and he felt old – when had the body of his youth become so fragile? He tried to drown out the sound of his wife's incessant shrieking and closed his eyes.

* * *

Elizabeth offered her congratulations to Jane with true joy in her heart for her sister. Jane deserved to be happy with Mr Bingley – and now she would be.

With Mr Bennet ill, Mr Bingley had attended him in his chamber at the request of the older gentleman, anxious as they both were to secure Jane's future. Much jubilation had followed, and it seemed that Elizabeth's rejection of Mr Charlton was for a time forgotten.

Elizabeth attended Mr Bennet as often as possible during the day, and returned to him after the doctor had attended him with the news that the gentleman needed to rest if he had any hope of recovering. After a small portion of soup for his dinner, Mr Bennet seemed better, and Elizabeth left him to rest and joined the ladies of the family for their evening meal.

The sisters escaped to Jane's room soon after supper, as they had found no opportunity for a private moment since their mother had learned of Jane's engagement. After readying themselves for bed, they sat together on Jane's bed, basking in the warmth of the crackling fire, each glowing from inside with secret delights.

"Oh Lizzie, I am so happy. How can such a wonderful thing be happening to me?" Sky blue eyes shone with happiness as Jane took Elizabeth's hands. "Why cannot you be as happy?"

"Jane," Elizabeth laughed. "I _am_ as happy! Happier for you than you can even imagine. _Nobody_ deserves this as much as you do, dearest."

"Lizzie, your turn will come, I _know_ it will. The perfect man will come along and he will worship you, and you will fall in love with him, and then everything will be for you as it is this very moment for me."

Elizabeth suddenly felt very lonely as a melancholy settled over her. Again she began to doubt Mr Darcy's feelings for her, for why would he offer for her when she had once rejected him so cruelly? What had she to recommend her? In marrying Elizabeth, Mr Darcy would be inheriting only problems – low connections, embarrassment and the scornfulness of the ton. _Had she mistaken his meaning on that magical morning in the woods? _

Elizabeth sighed, and Jane's smile faded in her concern. This despondency was highly unusual for her high-spirited sister. "Lizzie? What is it? Is there something wrong?" she coaxed gently.

"Oh Jane, I apologise. I do not wish to spoil your perfect day. Let us speak of your wedding..." Elizabeth attempted to distract Jane. She was not ready to confide in her sister of the strength of her love for Mr Darcy – too many questions would arise – and they were questions that Elizabeth did not have the courage to answer tonight.

"Lizzie, I do not wish to speak of the wedding. We have spoken of nothing else all day. I am concerned for you. Does your sadness come from what Mamma said to you?"

"I must confess that her remarks did hurt, Jane. She could not understand why I would not accept Mr Charlton. I believe that Mamma has lost all hope for my marriage prospects – she thinks that I will be soon on the shelf. I hope that I may come and live with you and Bingley when all hope is gone, Jane, for I do not think that I could bear to hear every moment of Mamma's disappointment in me." Her eyes twinkled with mirth, and Jane laughed with her.

"Of course you may live with us, if it comes to that, though I am certain that it shall not, dearest Lizzie. It seems that not even half a year can go by without some man falling in love with you, and you have had more marriage proposals than any woman of my acquaintance. There shall be more, and one time, Lizzie, you will _want_ to accept."

"La! I am not sure of that Jane. As you know, I have already fiercely rejected the proposals of men from almost every possible station in life – first a man of the church, then a gentleman rich beyond every girls dreams, and now a rich tradesman. Give me a soldier and a poor farmer to refuse, and I will have my full quota." Jane burst into peals of laughter at Elizabeth's speech, only made more amusing from the truth of it.

"Lizzie, tell me you would not _fiercely_ reject a poor farmer boy as you did with the rich gentleman, please, for I could not bear him to have his feelings injured."

Tears of laughter leaked from Elizabeth's eyes as she breathlessly replied, "Only you, Jane, could feel sorry for a man that does not exist. I would politely decline if such a farmer _did_ ask for my hand and I should do my best not to injure him – if only for you, darling!"

"Thank you, Lizzie. I think it best that you _do_ plan to live with us, sooner than later – I believe I am agreed now that you have no hope." The girls held back their laughter for a few moments before they could no longer contain it.

"Sweet Jane, whatever shall I do without you to make me laugh at myself? To think that I shall have to endure our mother's matchmaking schemes all alone; how shall I manage?" Elizabeth sighed.

"Never fear Lizzie, for if Mamma will not agree to allowing you to live with Bingley and I, I shall let slip that you not _only_ rejected Mr Collins and Mr Charlton, but _also_ the proposal of one rich gentleman who could have made you, and therefore _her_, rich beyond even her wildest dreams."

"Jane," Elizabeth admonished, mockingly stern. "If she ever hears of it, she would no doubt _actually_ strangle me, and I should probably be turned out of the house to roam the streets. I beg you, do not tell her."

* * *

The colour of red rose up before her eyes.

Her ears rang, a dull din that muffled all of the sounds around her.

Her candle, which had shone brightly a few moments ago, was now extinguished, plunging the hallway into darkness, leaving it lit only by the sliver of moonlight that came through the window at the end of the passage.

Mrs Bennet paid no heed.

A slow fire of vehemence rose up with her. The serpent was back, fangs exposed. Then would come the poison, swirling through the blood, while life slowly ebbed away – and Mrs Bennet felt it all – poisonous rage against her daughter for her continual defiance.

The girls' laughter rang through the house.

Mrs Bennet forced herself to concentrate on her breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

_The blasted child has refused three marriage proposals, all from eligible men. More than eligible. _The thought whirled through Mrs Bennet's head, building and building in greater resentment. The snake coiled in ever tighter circles.

The voice of George, Mr Bennet's valet broke into her inward thoughts, and Mrs Bennet glanced up sharply at the man who now stood before her.

"Madam, I am sorry to disturb you. It seems that Mr Bennet has taken a turn for the worse."

_Please leave a comment – they make it all worthwhile! _


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to Gayle for BETA-ing and to Wendi for cold-reading. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 4**

Even before the hysterical feminine screams resounded throughout the halls of Longbourn, he knew that something was amiss.

But nothing seemed to make sense.

He had been feeling unwell all week, though not an illness similar to anything he had ever experienced before. No, he had known that this was not a trifling ailment when his vision had become blurry yesterday.

There was a moment of pain somewhere in the region of his neck.

Then came the black spots that proceeded to swim about in front of his vision – as if he had been staring intently at a million candles before the wind snuffed them all out and there was nothing left but darkness and the remnants of flames in front of unfocussed eyes.

Then there was nothing.

A deep, murky nothingness.

A pitch black nothingness.

A strange, calm silence.

A numbness had somehow crept over his body.

Before he could make sense of it all, the floor all at once seemed to rise up to meet him.

A thud sounded – distant and dissociated.

He noticed that his face was pressed to the threads of the floor, his eyes inspecting the patterns of his favourite rug like he had never had cause to in the past. _Was it always so deep purple, and so soft and warm to walk on as it was to lie on now?_

_But how had this happened?_ A moment ago he had been standing on his rug.

By the time Mr Bennet made up his mind that he should summon assistance, if only to make sense of the unusual predicament in which he now found himself, the screams had sounded.

Even then, he did not associate the screams as a direct result of his own health. _Were the girls well?_ It was a fleeting thought that breezed over him, flying away with the next vague fancy that now afflicted him.

He saw his wife – peering down at him. He briefly likened her to a fish – mouth agape. Then suddenly she looked like a giant, and he felt uneasy by her manner.

Mrs Bennet appeared to be speaking to him, but he could not seem to decipher her words. Could she have gone mad? Or was he the one who had lost his senses?

He moaned – distressed, wishing for some sanity.

Then he felt a cool hand on his forehead, the soothing stroking so familiar to him. At once he was comforted_. My Lizzie_, he thought. She _will help me to understand. Everything will now be well._

Her chocolate brown eyes gazed down at him, a mixture of tenderness, concern and deep love. The contrast to the panicked expression of Mrs Bennet seemed so distinct to him, and the calm that he felt with Elizabeth by his side eased his troubled mind.

Elizabeth spoke.

But when Mr Bennet opened his mouth to tell her that he could not understand what she said, he found that he could not.

No words would come.

Darkness engulfed him. An ear-splitting scream chased him into unconsciousness.

* * *

Elizabeth had much time for reflection that long night as she continued her vigil at her beloved father's bedside.

On hearing the sound of Mrs Bennet's scream, Jane and Elizabeth had rushed from Jane's room, all laughter forgotten as they saw Mr Bennet lying on the floor of his chamber, his pallor a sickly grey hue, his mouth turned down at one side, and his limbs flaccid beside him.

Elizabeth quickly took charge of the situation, her composure a blessing as everyone fell to pieces around her. Jane, pale as a ghost, a horrified look on her face, left the room to have the doctor summoned urgently.

Tears had not yet come for Elizabeth, though the doctor did not hold much hope that Mr Bennet would survive much longer after suffering from such a severe apoplexy. He had been in and out of consciousness since they had him put into his bed, though when he was awake, albeit for very short periods, he seemed entirely unaware of what went on around him. Elizabeth could not even be sure that Mr Bennet knew that he was ill.

"It is funny is it not, Jane?" she whispered to her sister, who sat beside Elizabeth, clutching the hand that was not wrapped around her fathers.

"Mmmm," Jane replied vaguely, her eyes rimmed with dried tears.

"That in just one day, _everything_ can change – everything can be lost or gained. Yesterday morning I was so very happy, and then came the confrontation with Mr Charlton, and then Mamma. Now look at us!" Her voice trailed off, as she became choked with emotion. She looked down at Mr Bennet, lying so still and grey against the pillows.

Her gaze travelled to Jane, who also stared at their father, tears coursing down her cheeks again. "Lizzie, he cannot leave us. It is not right." Blue eyes looked to Elizabeth, counting on her to be the strong sister – the person that would get them all through this dreadful time. "He will not die, will he?"

Elizabeth choked back another sob that threatened to erupt, and pulled Jane into her arms, stroking her blonde hair as her sister cried on her shoulder. "I pray that he will not, Jane. I do not know how I could survive here without him." She breathed deeply until Jane had calmed enough for her to stop crying. "Go and rest for a while Jane," she told her sister. "I shall watch over Pappa while you get some sleep. Could you just check on Mamma on your way past? The sleeping tincture that the doctor gave her should be in effect by now."

With Jane gone, Mary and Kitty asleep in their own rooms, and Mrs Bennet presumably unconscious from the doctor's tincture, Elizabeth was left watching over Mr Bennet. Tears finally came, welling up from the pools of her hot prickling eyes, before spilling over onto her cheeks and travelling down the length of her face. Sometimes, Elizabeth wished that she did not always have to be the strong one, the dependable one, and the one who would make sense out of all the madness. Sometimes, she just wished that someone was there for _her_, worrying about her needs and her health.

As soon as the thoughts floated into her consciousness, Elizabeth attempted to dismiss them, letting them wash away. Yet still she wished that she had someone to hold her – to caress her back or her hair just as she had just done for Jane – someone to tell her that somehow, everything would be well. The image of Mr Darcy came unbidden into her mind's eye, the essence of strength and composure. Had he been here, Elizabeth somehow felt in her heart that he would have been the pillar that she could lean on. He would have sat beside her – all night if that was how long she wanted to remain. He would not have allowed her to suffer alone. Elizabeth ached for him – her Fitzwilliam.

* * *

Darcy woke from a terrible dream, sweat pouring from every inch of him, with _her_ name on his lips.

_Elizabeth!_

He tried desperately to remember the dream, but it seemed to escape him, a memory so close, yet just beyond his reach.

_Was he merely borrowing trouble because he was not near her? Was his concern solely due to his fears that Charlton would get to her first?_ Darcy was almost completely sure that his Elizabeth would never accept that man – not when he was almost certain now that she felt something for _himself_. She had agreed for Darcy to speak to her father, and she had consented to a private interview, after all. Darcy forced himself to breathe deeply and evenly and rationally reassured himself that Elizabeth would not refuse him this time.

He took a drink of water and settled back into his bed, trying in vain to return to sleep. Still the feeling that something was wrong at Longbourn would not recede – every instinct that Darcy had was urging him to get to Hertfordshire as soon as ever he was able.

Tomorrow, he assured himself. Tomorrow he would conclude his business so that he could be ready to set out for Netherfield as soon as his cousin was ready to depart the following day. He cursed his fate that Richard had asked to accompany him to Hertfordshire, and that he had agreed to wait for until Richard's leave started two days hence – at the time it had not seemed like a hardship, though he wanted desperately to see Elizabeth. Now, he wanted nothing more than to get to her as soon as humanely possible.

Darcy told himself that he was being daft – that it was merely his reaction to a dream. He closed his eyes, and saw her dancing before him.

"Do not worry my love. Whatever is happening there, I shall be with you soon, and you shall no longer have to bear any trial alone." He spoke the words aloud and hoped that somehow she would know that he was thinking of her.

* * *

She heard his words deep within her heart.

And she knew that wherever he was, Mr Darcy was thinking of her.

* * *

_**The following day...**_

Mrs Bennet's cries could be heard throughout the house. Nobody could calm her. Jane spent most of the day sitting with her mother, and Elizabeth continued to tend to her father, with the help of Mary, while Kitty floated around ringing her hands together as if unsure of how she could help.

Doctor Clark stayed with Elizabeth throughout most of the day, constantly checking Mr Bennet's progress and offering guidance as to the best care for his patient. Mr Bennet's left arm and leg flopped uselessly by his side, and on the occasions that he woke, he did not appear to even know that they were there. He could not speak sensibly, for when he opened his mouth to attempt a word, all that emerged was a jumble of sound that could not be linked together.

Elizabeth found her distress increasing as the day wore on with no sign of improvement. She tried with all the strength of character that she possessed to hide her concern from her father each time he awoke, though she could see his confusion when Elizabeth did not reply to his garbled words. Finally, Elizabeth spoke to him, her voice gentle, after pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Pappa, I cannot understand what you are saying to me. You must reserve your strength and concentrate on getting well. Do not worry for Mamma or the girls. I will make sure that they are all well." She smiled down at his shining blue eyes that focussed so intently on her person. "If you are concerned for our future, you need not, darling Pappa. Remember that Jane is to marry Mr Bingley, and he has vowed to take care of you and all of us until you are well again."

Mr Bennet attempted to speak again, and his frustration was all too evident on his features when he did not recognise his own words. He raised his feeble right hand and reached up to touch Elizabeth's tear-streaked cheek, staring deeply into her eyes. _Hear me Lizzie_, he thought as he tried so desperately to communicate with her. _I need to know who will take care of __**you**__ while you are taking care of everyone else._

"Oh, Pappa." A wrenching sob escaped Elizabeth, and suddenly her tears flowed freely onto Mr Bennet's cold hand. She turned her face so that her lips fell on his palm in a tender kiss. "I promise that everything shall be well, for all of us. Please get well..." She gasped for air through her sobs and covered his hand with her own, as his remained still on her cheek even though it must have taxed his remaining strength. She knew what he wanted to hear, the deep bond that they shared was too strong for her to mistake his request. She was finally ready to admit her feelings to him, and she whispered so that only he could hear her, "If you do not get well, Mr Darcy will have nobody to petition when he asks for my hand in marriage." Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. "I love him Pappa, more than I ever believed I could love anyone... and it appears that he loves me. I know not why since I have treated him appallingly since he first came to Hertfordshire." Elizabeth lowered Mr Bennet's hand to the bed, but kept it securely in her own warm grasp. A contented smile graced his face, and Elizabeth knew that she had made the right choice in telling him.

So she continued speaking of her love for Mr Darcy, explaining the proposal in Kent, the letter, the visit to Pemberley when he had been so changed, and how her love had blossomed into everlasting devotion.

And when she was finished and there was no more to tell, she smiled as she looked down on her father, lying peacefully against the pillows. She placed a gentle kiss on his hand and then released it, moving to stand so that she could stretch her fatigued body.

At first she was not sure that he was speaking coherently, but when he spoke again, Elizabeth could not mistake the words that he whispered.

"Be happy, my own Lizzie." Tears once again filled her eyes.

* * *

Mr Charlton had heard the news about the unfortunate occurrences at Longbourn. By now, the whole of Meryton was almost certainly aware of Mr Bennet's expected demise. The Meryton gossips had been hard at work since early that morning, spreading the news to everyone of importance in the neighbourhood, no doubt started by Mrs Bennet herself with her incessant complaining when anyone came to call.

Doctor Clark was rumoured to not expect Mr Bennet to live much longer. Even if he did, he would be in no fit state to manage his estate. So it would all fall to Mrs Bennet, until such time as her husband passed away. And then, the entailment would necessitate the Bennet's removal from their home.

Mr Charlton's thoughts never strayed far from Elizabeth and the steps that he could take to acquire her. Following his disappointment at her passionate and fiery refusal of his proposal yesterday, he had realised that he could not allow this young woman to escape his clutches. Yet, until he had heard the news of Mr Bennet's apoplexy, he had not been able to devise a realistic plan.

With Mr Bennet blocking his path at every turn, Mr Charlton would have had almost no chance to convince Elizabeth's parents to force their daughter to marry him. It was no secret in Meryton that Mr Bennet adored Elizabeth, preferred her to his other daughters, and would deny her nothing. He would never have forced Elizabeth to marry against her preferences.

Now, however, the gentleman was supposedly nonsensical and unconscious, no longer in a fit state to direct the affairs of his estate _or_ of his daughters. Mrs Bennet was nothing if not mercenary, expecting her daughters to marry men of wealth or consequence or both. And now, there was the added threat that Longbourn would soon belong to someone else. What better time to strike – to play on the woman's insecurities and promise that she would live a life of luxury in exchange for Elizabeth.

And if Mrs Bennet proved to have more morals than he suspected, and he remained unable to convince her, ruining Elizabeth would work just as well. In the end, she would still be his wife – however unwillingly. In time, she would come around – one day Elizabeth Bennet would be grateful indeed to be the wife of Mr Henry Charlton.

* * *

Elizabeth came below stairs much later after ensuring that her father was sleeping soundly, and with his valet's promise that he would watch his master closely and fetch her if she was needed.

Mr Bingley had arrived earlier and was even now in the garden with Jane, no doubt providing comfort to his fiancé. Elizabeth could not help but wish that Mr Darcy had come with him; had somehow heard of her misery and rushed back from London to be with her. But it was not to be.

Three pale faces looked up at her when she entered the sitting room, expecting news of Mr Bennet's progress. Mrs Bennet waved her fan profusely in front of her face, and tears coursed down her cheeks with intermittent wails and sobs.

"Pappa is resting, Mamma," Elizabeth addressed her mother in a husky tone. "I believe that he is comfortable for now." It was the reassurance that she would have wanted to hear had she not been sitting with her father since he was struck down – to know that he was not suffering should have been enough.

"But what of his illness? Will he recover or will we all be thrown out of our home to starve in a few days?" The hysteria rose as this declaration was followed by heaving sobs and gasps, taken out of necessity between breaths of air.

Anger filled Elizabeth for her mother's selfishness. Just like that all pity for Mrs Bennet fled.

A deep disgust took its place.

Never before had Elizabeth been so sickened by her mother's antics. Here she was allowing her daughter to tend to her grievously ill husband, and she cared not for his comfort, only for her own future.

Nevertheless, she answered as calmly as she was able to manage, taking a few deep breaths to steady her anger. "Doctor Clark is very concerned for Pappa, he is only conscious for short moments and he cannot speak coherently when he tries. I believe that he is upset and confused when we cannot answer him. His left arm and leg are paralysed, though Doctor Clark does not think he is even aware of this." Tears spilled slowly down Elizabeth's cheeks and when Kitty gasped in horror, she held out her arms for her sister to come to her. Elizabeth held her tightly while Kitty cried into her dress. "Lizzie, I know not what to do. How can I help you with Pappa? I do not want you to have to bear the burden of this for all of us, but I do not seem to have the strength that you do." Elizabeth smiled as Kitty spoke – at least she could recognise that Elizabeth had been managing everything.

Mary tended to their wailing mother, who, though in the midst of hysteria, still managed to hear and understand Kitty's words. "She has brought this on us, Kitty. Who else should bear the burden, if not Lizzie? Because of her, we shall be forced to leave Longbourn."

The slow throb of her pulse pounded through Elizabeth – heightened by anger so that it deafened her. "That is unfair!" Elizabeth's voice rose and echoed through the room. Kitty buried her head against Elizabeth's shoulder as a show of support.

"Unfair?" Mrs Bennet shrieked, and removing the handkerchief from where it had been pressed to her eyes, she stood and moved towards Elizabeth. "Unfair? You have no right to speak to me of fairness, Missy. _You_ have been _unfair_ to all of us, including your father. Do you not think that he would rest easier knowing that you were married to Mr Collins so that we would not be turned out of Longbourn when he dies? Or at least know that Mr Charlton would care for us all? _You_, Elizabeth, _deserve_ to feel the burden of Mr Bennet's illness – it is because of _you_ that none of us will ever rest easy again."

Elizabeth stared into the spiteful eyes of her mother, her own expression now pale as the newly laid snow, and almost as cold, as a deep chill blew through her. Though Mr Bingley would take care of them if Mr Bennet passed away, Mrs Bennet thought nothing of that – instead she had used every insult that she could devise to blame her least favourite daughter for all that had befallen them.

As she turned to leave the room, Elizabeth did not see how she would ever be able to forgive Mrs Bennet for her cruelty.

_Please consider leaving a comment. I love comments – keeps me motivated!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks to all those who have taken the time to comment on my previous chapters – you keep me going. Thanks to Gayle for BETA-ing and Wendi for cold-reading. ANGST WARNING. Enjoy._

**Chapter 5**

**_The following day..._**

"Jane, Mary, Kitty, I need you to go to visit your aunt Phillips in Meryton today. She has been unwell, and she should hear the news about Mr Bennet's condition from us. Lizzie, you had best stay here and take care of your father."

"Mamma, surely there is no need for all three of us to go? Perhaps I should stay at Longbourn and help Lizzie with Pappa?" Jane spoke quietly, as she sat at the breakfast table drinking her tea.

"No, Jane, I see no need for _that_. Your sister will manage very well without you. Mrs Phillips will be very happy to see you, and you can speak of your wedding plans to her." A fleeting expression of glee crossed her features, and Mrs Bennet almost clapped her hands together. Then her eye caught Elizabeth's, and she scowled again, but for once, did not bring up Elizabeth's refusal of Mr Charlton.

Before her sisters left for Meryton, Jane found Elizabeth in her chamber where she was readying herself for her day. "Lizzie, it pains me to see how poorly Mamma is treating you. I am afraid that you have taken too much on yourself. You are always the strong one, Lizzie, the dependable one. I know not what we should have done had you not been here for Pappa." Elizabeth's fingers trembled as she clumsily attempted to fasten her ruby cross necklace, and Jane, noticing her struggle, assumed the task.

"Do not worry for me, Jane. Mamma will forget about Mr Charlton like she did Mr Collins... in time. She is just now determined to punish me for my disobedience."

"I promise Lizzie, as soon as Mr Bingley and I are wed, you shall live with us. I cannot let you stay with Mamma if she continues to treat you as she does now."

"I shall want to remain with Pappa, Jane. He is so very ill; Doctor Clark does not think that he shall live much longer..." she touched the cross at her neck reverently – remembering when it was given to her by Mr Bennet on her tenth birthday. "He is growing weaker and is having fewer periods of consciousness, as you are aware, Jane. I only pray that he is not suffering."

"Lizzie, Pappa loves you, and he would be comforted in knowing that you are beside him. He is always calmer when you are in the room. He seems to sense your presence."

"Jane, where are you, Jane?" Mrs Bennet's voice called out. "Your sisters are ready to leave."

Jane kissed Elizabeth affectionately on the cheek and left her sister sitting at her dresser, clutching her ruby cross as if it would preserve her tenuous hold on her precious father's life.

* * *

It was still so early. Mr Bennet lay still in his bed, and Elizabeth sat beside him, reading aloud from the book that she had found at his bedside. He probably could not hear her, but it gave Elizabeth an occupation, and she hoped that it would soothe him.

Mrs Bennet had come into the sick room only once this morning, and only a few times over the past two days, using the excuse that her nerves could not take it. This morning she had only stood in the doorway to inform Elizabeth that her chamber was being spring cleaned and to warn her not to enter it for a few hours – she had not thought to come over to her husband's side and enquire as to his health. Elizabeth wondered if she cared at all for Mr Bennet, aside from the relative poverty that would have resulted from his death if not for Mr Bingley. How could a wife_ not _want to tend her husband when he was sick?

Elizabeth found herself chuckling aloud, quickly clamping a hand to her mouth as she caught the irreverent sound echoing in the quiet room. Had she married Mr Collins, she would have refused whenever possible to go near him – she certainly would not want to hold his greasy hand in his sick room. Elizabeth's eyes glazed over in dreamy contemplation. Mr Darcy however, _that_ was a different story. She would refuse to leave his side; she would take delight in smoothing her cool hands over his forehead, stroking the curling locks of hair from his eyes, and untangling them from the top of his head. She would lay her head against his chest or neck and breathe in the masculine scent of him, or crawl into bed beside him and tuck herself into his body.

Would he actually return today, as Mr Bingley had said? Would he come to her at Longbourn and take some of the burden of Mr Bennet's illness from her? Would he share her sorrow and kiss away her tears? Would he vow to take her away from here and love her forever? Elizabeth felt a pang of guilt at the happiness that suddenly sent her spirits soaring to the skies on the wings of her anticipation. Her father was deathly ill, and she, thinking herself a selfish being, had been thinking of her own pleasure.

Yet still, she prayed that Mr Darcy would come to her side, that he would not wait until tomorrow. He could be coated in dust from the road, dripping with sweat, and smelling of a hard day's work, and Elizabeth would not mind; Seeing him, having him close to her, caring for her – that would be more than enough for her.

"Uh..." A sound coming from the bed startled Elizabeth into action. Quickly she stood and came closer to Mr Bennet's side, leaning down over him, and smiling gently.

"Pappa, what is it?" she asked softly. His blue eyes, so much like Jane's, stared up at her. "Would you like some water?" A slight blink told Elizabeth that she was correct, and she assisted Mr Bennet into a sitting position, with her body behind him resting on the bed to support his weight. She helped him sip the water slowly, and winced when he coughed and shuddered before she managed to lay him back against the pillows.

His eyes closed again, but not before his eyes held Elizabeth's with a look filled with love that seemed to come right from his very soul. Elizabeth gasped as she felt her own heart constrict with a pain unlike any she had ever known.

Because, somehow, it seemed like goodbye.

* * *

Mrs Bennet gazed out the window, tapping her foot and glancing ever so often at the large grandfather clock that stood nearby.

He was late, and if he did not arrive soon, all would be lost.

Mrs Bennet did not think that Jane would stay away from Longbourn for long, not with Mr Bingley due for his daily afternoon visit, or with Elizabeth sitting alone at her father's bedside.

Hill would be arriving back soon; she had been sent to see to the washing for the past hour so that she would be out of sight of the front of the estate when he came.

But still he did not come. And with every moment that he did not arrive, Mrs Bennet's guilt about what she was about to do increased.

Not that Elizabeth did not deserve what was coming to her. She had been disobedient one time too many, and now with the death of Mr Bennet imminent, having one less daughter to concern herself with was a blessing in disguise.

That was not even to mention the money that he was settling on the rest of the family.

Elizabeth would be happy as the wife of Mr Charlton, she was convinced. For what woman would not be happy with so much money and so many possessions at her disposal.

Mrs Bennet took a deep breath, calming herself as his large carriage came into view, packed with travelling cases for a long stay at the intended destination.

She walked slowly out to meet him, and smiled as he bent over her hand and kissed it, acting the part of a gentleman even though he was merely a rich tradesman.

She motioned to the trunk that waited just inside the front door, and bit her lip as two of his servants lifted it and secured it to the carriage with the others.

"You are not going back on our agreement, I trust, Mrs Bennet?" he spoke, ushering the lady quickly inside.

"I am not sure that this is the right course, Mr Charlton," Mrs Bennet spoke quietly, and would have continued, until she was quieted by the stack of money that Mr Charlton waved in front of her.

"How could it not be the right course, Mrs Bennet? Elizabeth's reputation will be protected – she will soon be married to me, and the reputations of your other daughters will be secured. With the money that I am willing to pay you for your charming daughter, you shall be able to live like a queen for the rest of your life." Mrs Bennet's eyes lit with greed as Mr Charlton ran his fingers over the crisp notes, and her hands reached out unconsciously to touch it – more money than she had ever seen in her lifetime. It would be all hers as soon as Elizabeth got into the carriage, with a promise of a second instalment as soon as Elizabeth became Mrs Charlton.

As she would have taken it, Mr Charlton pulled it away. "Not until you have signed the contract and _only_ when Elizabeth is safely in my carriage, Mrs Bennet, as we agreed."

He lay the contract down on the nearest table and watched while Mrs Bennet perused its contents. "Necessarily vague as we discussed, Mrs Bennet, though I promise you that the contract is legally sound. I have no need of this money, and no need of yet another pretty mistress. I shall not compromise your daughter, and we shall be married almost as soon as we reach London. My solicitor is securing the special license as we speak." Mrs Bennet signed the contract and placed her copy into her desk.

"I shall expect the rest of the money tomorrow then, Mr Charlton." She raised herself to her full height.

"You shall have it, Mrs Bennet. As soon as I have Elizabeth as my wife, the money shall be yours to do with as you will. Now I believe that we should delay no longer – I am anxious to be away."

At that very moment, Elizabeth entered the sitting room, her face tear-streaked and panicked. At first, she did not see Mr Charlton standing slightly apart from her mother. "We must send for Doctor Clark; I fear that Pappa is slipping away from us," she cried.

"Lizzie, you are being rude to our guest," Mrs Bennet indicated towards Mr Charlton. Elizabeth glanced sharply at him, gasping at the gaze of pure covetousness that adorned his features. How could the man be so revolting? Did he not care that her father lay dying above stairs in this very house?

"Elizabeth," he spoke her name very deliberately, and Elizabeth found herself looking to her mother to chastise him for this breach in propriety. Mrs Bennet said nothing and refused to look at her daughter, instead darting her eyes outside, to the clock, and at Mr Charlton.

Suddenly Elizabeth felt uneasy, and she felt that she must escape this room as soon as possible. So, directing an insolent glance at Mr Charlton, she turned on her heels and moved away.

A small scream sounded from her lips when Elizabeth's leaving was prevented by a strong grasp on her upper arm. "I am afraid that I cannot let you leave, Elizabeth. You belong to me, now."

Elizabeth wrenched her arm from his grasp, ignoring the sting as she broke free from his powerful hold. She swung around to face him. "I _belong_ to nobody. I do not know _why_ you believe that you have the right to address me so informally, or to lay a hand upon me, but I will tolerate it no longer." Her voice was loud, anger evident by the deep colour that had suffused her cheeks and neck, the look of haughty disdain on her face that would have done even Lady Catherine De Bourgh proud.

"You are mistaken, _Elizabeth_," Mr Charlton replied with a sneer. "I have just paid dearly for you. Ask your beloved mother if you do not believe me." He came beside Elizabeth and took advantage of her confusion to take her arm again so that she could not escape when she realised what was about to occur. He knew that it would not take long, for the Elizabeth he knew was passionate and fiery, and being well informed and intelligent, she was not naive to the ways of the world.

He handed the money to Mrs Bennet, who took it in hands that were lifeless. He watched as Elizabeth looked to Mrs Bennet, who still refused to meet her daughter's eyes. She was a coward as well as a mercenary – to sell her prize of a daughter for a total of twenty thousand pounds. Understanding soon dawned, and Elizabeth, unable to hide her shock felt her face drain of all colour. She stared open-mouthed at the money that Mr Charlton had given Mrs Bennet, and then to the window where she could just glimpse the carriage loaded with trunks for travelling.

"How could you?" she whispered to her mother in a pitiful voice, closing her eyes to the utter pain that she knew was reflected within them. "Do you really hate me _this_ much?"

Mrs Bennet finally looked up and caught the sadness that reflected back at her for a moment, before Elizabeth shut her out. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come.

Before anything could be done to force Elizabeth to leave Longbourn against her will, she made a valiant effort to break free of Mr Charlton's tightening grip, twisting and turning in an effort to escape his clutches, screaming for assistance. But with no one to come to her aid, Elizabeth's efforts were in vain. Unnoticed in the struggle, Elizabeth tore the cross from around her neck and tossed it towards the basket of Jane's embroidery, praying that her sister would find it and help her. She found herself being half carried and half dragged to Mr Charlton's carriage, where she was unceremoniously thrown in next to a frightened young maid, there to obviously act as her chaperone.

As the carriage set off, Elizabeth heard her mother's voice speaking to her. "He will make you a good husband, Lizzie. You shall see."

She almost cried with the injustice of the position in which she now found herself. She would be forced to marry Mr Charlton, and she would never see Mr Darcy again. If only their plans had been delayed but a day, this could never have happened. Mr Darcy would have stopped it.

* * *

Mr Bingley was restless.

He wanted to rush to Jane's side and comfort her through her father's illness. He wished that he could be with her every moment, that he did not have to obey propriety by visiting only for a short time each day.

Why could he not have married her when he was last at Netherfield? Had he done so, she would now be his wife and he would have the freedom to offer the love and support that she needed during this sad time.

He had decided to ride this morning, to pass some time before his afternoon visit to Longbourn, glad that Darcy would be back later this afternoon so that they could pass the time together when Bingley could not be with Jane.

He was halted by a fast travelling carriage, which he recognised as Charlton's, loaded with trunks as if the occupants had no plans to return to Hertfordshire any time soon. He hoped for Darcy's sake that this was true and that Mr Charlton no longer had Miss Elizabeth in his sight.

Bingley had long suspected a serious attachment on the part of Darcy towards Jane's sister, confirmed by his friend's utter captivation by her when she had visited Pemberley those few months ago. He had watched them dancing together at the assembly but a few days ago, when he could bear to take his eyes from Jane, and Bingley had reason to suspect that Miss Elizabeth felt the same for Darcy as he did for her.

With Charlton out of the way, Darcy had every chance of winning his beloved.

* * *

Mrs Bennet let the cash notes drift through her hand. Elizabeth was safely away, and soon she would be married and rich beyond her wildest dreams. Mrs Bennet was not without a heart, and a slight twinge of guilt ever so often made itself known. Elizabeth did not like being forced into anything, and she hoped that her second daughter would not make things too hard for herself.

She thought of her sickly husband who lay above stairs, dying slowly hour by hour. Sighing heavily, she placed the money into her desk and reluctantly ascended the stairs to sit by him for a while. With Elizabeth, her husband's favourite, at his bedside there had been no need to attend him; Mr Bennet had never made it a secret that he preferred his daughter's company to that of his wife.

She had never done anything but try to secure the family's future – though at this moment of reflection, Mrs Bennet conveniently forgot about her excessive spending habits and inability to exercise restraint with money – if that meant marrying her girls off to rich men, then so be it.

She sat quietly beside Mr Bennet, whose pallor was marked and breathing shallow, and became lost in the recollection of her deal with Mr Charlton, made only yesterday.

_"Madam, may I first say how sorry I am to hear of your husband's ill-health; if there is anything that I can do to help you, Mrs Bennet, you have but to ask." Mr Charlton bowed to Mrs Bennet with a charming smile on his face._

_He had visited Longbourn late in the afternoon and had requested a private interview with Mrs Bennet. Somewhat surprised, she had led him to her husband's library, preferring to ensure privacy although the girls were unlikely to disturb them, as they were all visiting with their father._

_"Thank you, kind sir; I am afraid that it has been a very trying time for us all." Seeing her chance, Mrs Bennet continued, "I must apologise for my Lizzie's reception of your proposal, Mr Charlton. I am afraid that Mr Bennet's illness was upsetting to her, and I am sure that..." she faltered, fluttering her eyelashes prettily, "that is to say... I believe she would have acted differently had she been in her usual spirits."_

_Not fooled by Mrs Bennet's flattery, he raised his eyebrows and replied, "Indeed, Madam? You will forgive me if I do not believe that this could possibly be the case after Miss Elizabeth's wholehearted refusal of me and everything that I could offer her." Mr Charlton turned his back. **Let the desperate woman stew for a while**, he thought to himself. **It will only make my purpose here all the easier.**_

_"Yes, well..." There was a pause as Mrs Bennet considered her words carefully. "Elizabeth can be very headstrong at times – not that this should concern you, sir, for she is an excellent girl. Will you not attempt to persuade her, Mr Charlton? I am sure she would come around eventually."_

_"I am afraid, Madam, that I do not have the luxury of more time to wait for Elizabeth to **come around**, as you say. I must leave Hertfordshire on the morrow, and while I do desire your daughter to become my wife, and would bestow upon her more riches than she could imagine, I am not willing to wait for her to realise her mistake. Are you certain that she would not accept me if I asked her again this very moment?" Mr Charlton had turned during his speech and had every appearance of sincerity in his countenance. He hoped that this interview would go exactly the way he wished and that tomorrow he would have Elizabeth by his side._

_"Is there nothing that I could do to convince you to stay, Mr Charlton?" Her eyes were wide, disappointment etched on every feature at the loss of such a prospect._

_"I am afraid not, Madam. I thank you for all of your hospitality." He picked up his hat and took a few steps towards the closed door. "I only wish that there was some way that I could take Elizabeth with me to London tomorrow so that I could marry her with the special license I have already procured in anticipation of her acceptance. I would have spent every penny I have to make her happy; not to mention that I was prepared to settle a generous sum on her family to compensate for the deprivation of her excellent company." He sighed. "I suppose the license will be relegated to the fire on my return." He turned back to face Mrs Bennet and bowed. "I shall take my leave then, Mrs Bennet."_

_His hand turned the door handle. _

_Mrs Bennet felt her heart pounding. _

**_Could she do this? Could she say what her mind was urging her to say? _**

_She took a deep breath, and when she spoke her voice was unnaturally loud, even for her, and carried across the room like thunder shattering a silent evening. "Wait!"_

_Mr Charlton's hand stopped, but he did not turn for fear that he would be unable to hide his true satisfaction. He did not speak. He would wait for her to do so._

_Finally she did, after long minutes that stretched the tension in the room to the breaking point. "What if I were to make it possible for Lizzie to travel with you to London? What if I arranged it so that you could marry her as soon as you reach the city?" Her last words were whispered._

_"Well then, I should gladly accept your offer, and I would ensure that a large cash sum was made available to your family, Mrs Bennet." He turned, and watched her reactions._

_"How large a cash sum?" _

_"I would gladly provide a sum of ten thousand pounds so that you and your family could live more than comfortably for the rest of your lives... shall we say, five thousand tomorrow when Elizabeth is in my carriage, and five thousand further when she and I are married. A little insurance, Mrs Bennet, in case she refuses to marry me."_

_"And you do not mind if she will not come with you willingly?" Mrs Bennet wrung her hands together._

_"Not at all, so long as the outcome is the same. I have always admired Elizabeth's spirit, and I must say that her adamant refusal of me made me only long to have her more. Do we have a deal, Mrs Bennet, Elizabeth as my wife for ten thousand pounds?"_

_Somewhere deep within her, Mrs Bennet knew that what she was doing was wrong, and that if anyone found out, she would never be forgiven. But the other part, resentful of Elizabeth's refusal of three eligible men, and knowing that here was a way to have the disobedient girl permanently off her hands and rich on top of it, urged the demon in her to agree._

_"What would we say to her sisters and to the neighbours? If it should become known that Lizzie eloped with you, it could ruin my other girls' prospects..."_

_"Let me assure you, Madam, that I do **not** want Elizabeth ruined by scandal. I shall not accompany her to London; instead, I shall install a maid to travel with her in the carriage, with a man servant to keep them protected. **I** shall follow in the afternoon, where I will take your daughter directly to the church to make her my wife. I know not what you shall tell your neighbours or daughters, but I believe you should simply say that she has gone to London to visit a friend, and once she is there and news of our marriage comes through, make it known that she has wed me quietly due to her father's illness - with your consent."_

_"Yes, I believe you are right. That would work very well. I would expect a contract to be drafted so that I may ensure that I receive the money you have promised, and I trust that you will remain honourable in your intentions and not compromise her?"_

_"You can be assured of it Mrs Bennet. I have women enough around me, should I have dishonourable inclinations. I will wed her, never fear, and as soon as may be. I have a copy of the special license and I shall bring it tomorrow so that you can see that I am in earnest. I shall bring it with a contract and the first five thousand pounds at eleven o'clock tomorrow. I will expect Elizabeth's belongings to be packed and ready to depart."_

Mrs Bennet started out of her memory, her face red at the knowledge of her betrayal. She could hear her daughters in the entrance – and her main concern was that one of them might discover her duplicity and hate her forever. Nobody would understand that Mrs Bennet had done it for them all. Elizabeth would be happy – once she accepted her situation, all would be well.

_The muse for chapter 8 has deserted me, so I need some inspiration and would love more comments so, if you read and enjoy, please take a few minutes to comment _


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks everyone for the comments on chapter 5. I have made inroads into chapter 8 now, so it is going well... thanks... Thanks to Gayle for BETA-ing and to Wendi for cold-reading._

**Chapter 6**

"Mamma, why would Lizzie go to Aunt Gardiners without a word to anyone? I spoke to her just this morning, and she expressed no urgency to go to London." Jane was puzzled by Mrs Bennet's explanation of Elizabeth's absence.

She had arrived home after a two hour visit with her Aunt Philips to find Elizabeth's trunks missing from her chamber, and Elizabeth herself nowhere to be seen. Her mother had been acting strangely from the moment that the girls walked in the door, an air of restlessness surrounding her as she paced to and fro and sighed often.

Indeed, Jane could make no sense of any of it. "Did something happen while we were out, Mamma, to make Elizabeth leave?" Her brow furrowed. Elizabeth would not leave without an explanation; she was sure of it. If nothing else, she would have written a note for Jane before her departure.

"I have told you, Jane, that I was tending to your poor father when she came into the room and told me that she was leaving, and then breezed out again – such a headstrong girl, she has always done as she pleased. The Gardiners' carriage had arrived to take her to London, and her trunks were packed and below stairs. I suppose that is why she insisted on my sending you all to visit Aunt Phillips this morning – she could not hide her selfishness in leaving poor Mr Bennet when he is on his deathbed." Mrs Bennet's eyes shifted to her desk, for what seemed like the hundredth time, uneasy at the thought of what lay within. "Jane, I tried to talk her out of going, but she would not heed me. She _would_ go to London today."

"Mamma, it is just not like Lizzie. I am not sure what to believe. But if Aunt Gardiner's carriage was here, she must have been planning the trip – even before Pappa became unwell. Why should she not tell me?" Jane sat down at the table in front of her embroidery basket. At least it would give her the pretence of having a task while she thought through all that she had been told.

"If you ask me, your sister has been doing as she wishes for far too long for my liking. Your father indulged her too often, and she became spoiled as a result. I suppose she could not bear to have to tend him any longer – so being self-seeking, she decided to leave it all to the rest of us."

Jane's heart pounded, her ears rang. What Mrs Bennet had said did not make any sense, and there were certain parts of her speech that just did not ring true. She was filled with a deep seated uneasiness and a strange feeling of impending doom. She reached into her embroidery basket and took out her work, absently fingering the intricate design. But Jane could not make up her mind to work on it, and after a few more minutes, she folded it neatly and placed it back in the basket.

It was then that Jane saw it—a golden chain hanging from the handle of the basket. She stifled the gasp that very nearly escaped her lips as she sat very still and gazed at the ruby cross that hung limply from the end. She dared not touch it for fear of awakening her mother's suspicions. But Jane knew that there was no way that Elizabeth would have left willingly for London without her cross. She pulled the basket closer to her and began emptying it. Under the pretence of sorting the threads, she took the necklace in one hand. She stared down at it—the clasp was broken and stretched as though it had been torn from her sister's neck.

"Mamma," Jane jumped when Kitty entered the room. "Pappa is unconscious again. Doctor Clark would like to see you for a moment."

Jane watched as Mrs Bennet stood up, and her glance towards her writing desk did not go unnoticed by her suspicious daughter. She seemed reluctant to leave the room. Jane thought back to her conversation earlier and realised that Mrs Bennet seemed unusually preoccupied with that desk today – her eyes had strayed towards it on more than one occasion this afternoon.

"Jane, will you accompany me?" Mrs Bennet spoke nervously.

"Oh, Mamma, I have made such a mess of my basket. I would prefer to put it back into some semblance of order, and you may relay the doctor's message. I suspect that he would prefer to speak with you privately, since he did not attend you below stairs." Jane looked at Kitty, who nodded in agreement, and Jane was relieved.

As soon as Mrs Bennet had reluctantly quit the room, Kitty sat down beside Jane. "Pappa is very ill, Jane; I believe he will die very soon. What can Lizzie have been thinking to leave so suddenly?" Tears filled her eyes. "I believe that Pappa was looking for her when he was awake earlier."

"I suspect he was, Kitty, for you know that Elizabeth has been with him almost every moment since he fell ill. She alone can keep him calm." Jane gasped, as another realisation struck her – Mrs Bennet had hardly sat with Mr Bennet at all through his illness; yet, she had said that when Elizabeth was ready to leave, she had been with him, and that Elizabeth had come into the room only to inform her of her imminent departure. Elizabeth would not have left without bidding their father goodbye – not under any circumstance – and there was also the question of why Mrs Bennet had suddenly felt it necessary to sit with him. Her mother was lying to her, of that Jane was absolutely certain, though it felt unnatural for her to think ill of anyone, especially her mother.

_Should she write to her Aunt Gardiner?_ By the time her letter would be received and answered, anything could have happened. No, Jane knew that she had to find out what had occurred as soon as possible. For some reason, she feared for Elizabeth, and she could not leave her to her fate until she discovered what that fate might entail.

She stood abruptly, and strode over to Mrs Bennet's writing desk, ignoring the strange look that Kitty was giving her. "Jane, you cannot look in Mamma's writing desk. You know she forbids it," her sister gasped, clapping a hand across her mouth.

"I must, Kitty. I am worried for Elizabeth."

"Why should Mamma's desk have anything to do with Eliz...?" Kitty asked, stopping abruptly at Jane's shocked exclamation. She stared in horror down at the piles of money that she could see. She could not even fathom a guess as to how much it amounted to, only that it was a great deal more money than her mother could possibly have in her possession. She hastily gathered the piles into her arms and laid them on the table and then rifled through her mother's papers for anything that would reveal the source of the money. For all of their sakes, Jane prayed that this had nothing to do with Elizabeth, but somehow she could not believe it. And when her eyes came to rest on some form of contract, scrawled with Mr Charlton's name, Jane felt as though she would be ill where she stood.

Though the contract was vague, as she read it, she could see that the sum of five thousand pounds had been from him, with another instalment to follow. Tears filled Jane's eyes as she pondered what all of this could mean... _had Elizabeth gone with Mr Charlton so that her family would have something to live on if Mr Bennet passed away? _Jane shook her head. But that made no sense! Mr Bingley would take care of them all – Elizabeth would know that. _And what of Mr Darcy?_ Jane was certain that her sister held a tendre for him, and he was due to return this very day. No, something very ominous had occurred at Longbourn this morning, and Mrs Bennet knew what it was.

"What is the source of all that money, Jane? Are we rich?" Kitty asked, coming closer.

Jane could only turn her head towards Kitty, a look of such utter desolation on her countenance that her sister could not help but be concerned. "I am afraid, Kitty, that Mamma has done something terrible."

"But what?" Kitty asked, just as Mary walked into the room, eyes red-rimmed, followed by Mrs Bennet.

Both Jane and Kitty turned as Mrs Bennet noticed the pile of money on the table. In a short moment, their mother turned an ashen white colour as all of the blood drained from her face. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes darted from the table to her desk, and she searched for something to say. Finally, she succeeded. "What are you girls doing with all that money?" Her voice was too high – unnatural even for her.

"I might ask you the same, Mamma," Jane spoke in a firm but quiet voice. "I found it in _your_ desk."

"And what pray, were you doing poking around in my desk, Miss Jane? I am ashamed that you would do such a thing. It is probably a good thing that your sister ran away to London, else she may have led you even further astray." Mrs Bennet sat, dramatically draping herself on the chaise.

"What have you done with Lizzie, Mamma?" Jane stared directly at her mother, who for a moment held her steely gaze, before darting her eyes away and wetting her lips with edginess.

"What are you speaking of, Jane? I told you that Elizabeth went to London to stay with her aunt. What is it about her visit that you have failed to understand?" She huffed out an offended breath.

"I do not _believe_ you, Mamma. I know Lizzie too well, and she would not have done this. She would not willingly have left Pappa while he was so ill, and although you have been treating her so horridly since her refusal of Mr Charlton, she would not have had time to write a note to my aunt, nor to receive a reply, nor for the carriage to have been sent for her." Jane paused, her heart pounding in her chest. This was the most defiance that she had ever shown her mother. A creature of gentleness and serenity, Jane had never felt such an injustice, and she would _not_ stand by and let her mother lie to her.

"Jane, I insist that you leave this room this instant, if you are to persist on this nonsensical idea. I have no idea why you are attacking _me_ like this just because your sister is so selfish. She has left _me_ here, too, and Kitty and Mary. We _all_ of us must suffer for her desertion." Mrs Bennet stood and flounced over to the table, gathering some money in her hands. "We must put this away before someone happens upon us."

"Where did the money come from?" Jane asked quietly, one hand on Mrs Bennet's upper arm to stop her from moving.

"If you must know... it is money that I have been saving. I needed to take action so that we would not be left to starve in the hedgerows when your father passed..." she paused, as tears filled her eyes. "Which looks to be very soon... and you, ungrateful girl, can do nothing but question me and accuse me of _selling_ Lizzie..."

Jane gasped. "Selling? Who said anything about selling? I had not thought it so bad as this... please, Mamma, tell me it is not true?" Jane begged, both hands grasping her mother's arms gently.

Mrs Bennet laughed nervously. "Oh, I thought that was what you meant, Jane. Why would I do such a thing? Do I need the doctor to come and attend you, for I am not sure that you are in your right mind?"

Mary, who had been watching the scene helplessly, absently picked up the contract, signed by Mr Charlton and Mrs Bennet, and as she glanced down at it, she realised that Jane was telling the truth. "Mamma, you did..." Jane and Mrs Bennet swung to face her, and the older woman's face once again paled at the sight of the contract. "You sold Lizzie to Mr Charlton." Then, the sensible girl promptly burst into tears, followed by Kitty.

Jane wrested the money from her mother's grasp. "How could you? How could you do this?" she cried, as Mrs Bennet wailed and begged for her forgiveness.

Money dropped to the floor, some coming loose of its binding and landing softly in the middle of the room. Mrs Bennet could do nothing, lost as she was to hysterics, but Jane knelt down to gather it into some semblance of order. If money could buy Elizabeth, then surely it could get her back?

* * *

The scenery fled by as Elizabeth sat in a carriage owned by a man that she had disliked this morning, but now loathed with every fibre of her being. She could hardly contain her rage enough to sit still – in point of fact, Elizabeth did not _want_ to try to sit still – for to her, it would seem like she had given up.

Elizabeth tried not to think about what Mr Charlton had in store for her. Mrs Bennet had said something about marriage, but truly, Elizabeth could think of nothing worse than suffering that fate. She would rather he... but no, she would not let herself think that way. It did nothing but cause her heart to pound, her face to heat to unbearable temperatures, and her eyes to prick with the tears that she had so far refused to allow to fall.

A maid sat on the opposite side of the carriage and stared determinedly out the window. By now the young girl knew that something was not right with this situation, after all, the struggling Elizabeth had been unceremoniously deposited into the carriage and warned to stay there. The maid wanted no part of it.

Elizabeth had tried a few times to engage her in conversation, if for no other reason than to discover what she could of their destination and Charlton's plans, but the maid had refused to speak to her. Elizabeth sighed as she stared out her own window. They were close to London now; she could see the outline of large buildings in the distance. She had little chance for escape now – unless she could find a way to become lost in the hustle and bustle of London. She would make her way to her aunt's home in Cheapside, and somehow they would all be able to sort out this whole disaster. Elizabeth did not delude herself that she would ever be allowed to set foot in Longbourn again after this, and if the truth were known, she had no desire to ever see her mother again.

Tears now fell, wetting her cheeks, and small sounds of distress which Elizabeth could not hide escaped her. She would most likely never see her father again – he had been so ill and so frail when she had last sat with him just two hours ago – and the last time she had spoken to him, he had seemed to sense that his end was near. Mr Bennet had been so content when Elizabeth had confessed her love for Mr Darcy.

The sobs came harder and faster now, as Elizabeth let herself for the first time consider what this meant for them. _Would Mr Darcy think that she had eloped with Mr Charlton? That she had cruelly encouraged him, only to disappoint him again? Would he even find out what had happened to her?_ Elizabeth felt the bitterness fill her heart as she realised that Mrs Bennet would not tell any of them the truth – not Mr Darcy, not Mr Bennet, not Jane – she would probably fabricate some tale about Elizabeth's hidden love for Charlton and somehow convince them all. They could all end up hating Elizabeth as much as Mrs Bennet seemed to – for hate she indeed must feel if she could sell her own daughter for a sum of money.

Elizabeth found herself thinking about Mr Darcy – she could picture him in her mind's eye, see his brown-eyed gaze as he smiled crookedly at her – so intense in his admiration that it should have been uncomfortable but now merely filled her heart with love and her body with anticipation. How she adored him! And now he would never know... for even if Elizabeth somehow found a way to escape marriage to Mr Charlton, her reputation would be beyond repair. _How could she bear it?_ The coach slowed, and Elizabeth found herself acting on impulse, throwing the door of the carriage open and tumbling out onto the ground.

She had been aiming for the grass, but Elizabeth had misjudged the distance in her panic, and instead landed half on the grass and half on the rocky road. She felt the sharp sting as her knees landed in a patch of gravel, and her every bone jarred as her body followed, her hands sliding on the rocks before she could recover herself.

Elizabeth would possibly have gotten away with it, were it not for the alarmed shriek from the previously silent maid. The footman glanced back just as Elizabeth stood and dusted herself off, testing her limbs quickly. She set off on the grass, aiming for a patch of trees in the distance, but before she went more than twenty steps, she was grasped by a set of rough hands and taken forcibly by the footman back to the carriage, crying and hurting.

* * *

Mr Bingley paused at the entrance to the family parlour, his smile at the thought of seeing Jane fading as he heard the commotion that came from within. He could hear the unmistakable sound of women crying. Part of him wanted to leave and return later, unused to dealing with a group of emotional women, but another part urged him to stay at least to help Jane through whatever had happened to cause such grief. He was soon to be a part of the family, and the thought of his Jane hurting resolved him to act.

He pushed open the door to the room and was stopped short by the sight that greeted him. He found that he could not contain his shock at what lay within. His eyes were first drawn to Jane, kneeling on the floor amidst a pile of money notes, frantically trying to gather them while tears ran down her face. She was facing him but did not immediately notice his entrance as she was intent on completing her task. She was speaking so softly between sobs, "How could you? Poor Lizzie..." over and over again, that it seemed she was addressing no one.

Bingley dragged his eyes from his beloved Jane and slowly scanned the room to assess the situation that was at hand. Miss Kitty and Miss Mary clung to one another in one corner of the room, tears pouring down both of their faces as they watched Jane frantically collecting the money. Mrs Bennet had collapsed onto the chaise in obvious hysterics, babbling nonsensical phrases that Bingley could not even begin to decipher.

On first hearing the crying women, the thought had occurred to him that Mr Bennet had passed away, but now he had suspicions that he had walked in on the end of an argument. The money itself was a puzzlement to him. He took a step further into the room, his gaze focused on Jane, but still she did not look up, though Mrs Bennet and her sisters all saw him.

"Jane," he spoke softly, before kneeling down in front of her and placing his hands on hers, stopping her frenzied movements. Jane looked up into his eyes, and Bingley immediately saw the heartbreak within her beautiful blue eyes that had been darkened by emotion.

"Oh, Charles..." Jane spoke on a sob, and she launched herself against his body and into his waiting embrace. It was the first time she had ever spoken his given name to him, and the first time he had been this close to her, body pressed against body, but Bingley could not allow himself to enjoy the sensation, caused as it was by her deep emotional turmoil, the root of which he had yet to discover.

So, conscious of propriety, and the knowledge that her two unmarried sisters were watching, Bingley pulled away sooner than he would have liked and drew Jane up to a standing position. He stood close to her, his arm around her waist for fear that she might collapse where she stood. "Has something happened to Mr Bennet?" he asked, frowning as he gazed anxiously at the four women who now stared at him intently.

Jane shook her head, unable to speak through the enormous lump in her throat. "Then what has happened? Will someone not tell me, please?" She stared up at him, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find the words to say. Bingley glanced worriedly towards Mrs Bennet, who started to speak. "Mr Bingley, it is nothing, just a silly argument. Please do not..."

"_Stop!"_ Bingley turned towards Jane, astonished that the word had come from her, and in such a forceful tone. "Do not speak any more of your lies, Mamma." She took Bingley's hands in hers.

"Mr Bingley, you _must_ help me. We _must_ get Lizzie back." Tears poured down her face, and all Bingley could do was look on in confusion, struggling to understand.

"Where is Lizzie? What do you mean, Jane? Please, will you not start from the beginning?" he urged.

"There is no time for that." Mary came forward. "Mr Bingley, Mamma sold Lizzie to Mr Charlton this very morning. She has not admitted it, but Jane found the money that you see in her writing desk, and this contract signed by both her and Mr Charlton." Bingley took the contract, unable to feel any surprise for the concise speech coming from Jane's usually insensible sister.

"It is not true," wailed Mrs Bennet from the corner of the chaise. She waved her handkerchief in front of her face as she let out a moaning sound.

"It_ is_ true, Mamma. I have had enough of your _lies_," Jane whirled to face her mother, the picture of wrath. "Mamma sent all of us, excepting Lizzie, on a visit this morning. When we returned, Lizzie was gone, and Mamma told us that she had gone to London in our Aunt Gardiner's carriage."

"Are you saying that you do not believe her?" Bingley asked.

"I _know_ Lizzie, Mr Bingley. She would not do this, especially not when our father is so ill. She adores him, you know. Even if she _had_ wanted or planned to go to London, she would have told me. All of this could not have been arranged in such a short time. You must believe me, Lizzie did not leave willingly." Jane showed Bingley Elizabeth's broken necklace and explained its significance to him.

At the conclusion of her story, Bingley could only stare at Mrs Bennet in shock and dismay, his mouth open, his eyes wide. When he finally could speak, he said, "How could you do this? To your own daughter?" Mrs Bennet launched into action, and in a short moment she was on her knees on the floor in front of him, her hands reaching up for his hands, and when he refused to let her touch him, clutching the bottom of his breeches.

"You must not believe them, Mr Bingley. I could not do such a thing to my own daughter; the girls have mistaken this entire situation. The money was for something else. Mr Charlton saw how we would struggle when my poor husband died, so he agreed to loan me the money."

"I am afraid that I cannot believe you Mrs Bennet, not when all of the evidence points towards your sale of Miss Elizabeth. This contract is for a _sale_, and NOT a _loan_ as you say..." He waved the contract in the air. "And all of this seems much too coincidental. Mr Bennet's favourite daughter, a sensible and devoted woman like Miss Elizabeth, would not act so selfishly as you have accused. From everything I have seen of your daughter, her character is flawless; she is kind and loving, and eternally devoted to her family. If you have done this, though you refuse to admit it, you have destroyed more than just Elizabeth's life... think on that, Mrs Bennet."

Bingley drew Jane to the other side of the room. "Jane, I will fix this. I saw Charlton's carriage leaving Meryton only two hours ago. If Elizabeth was in it, then it would take them at least three hours to reach the city, so she would not be there yet. Darcy is due back from London today; I had an express from him yesterday informing me of this. He will be close to Netherfield by now. He loves your sister, you know?" Jane nodded.

"I suspected as much. I believe that Lizzie loves him also... but what will become of them now?" Jane gulped.

"Do not fret, my dearest. I shall ride out to meet Darcy as soon as I have taken things in hand here. Darcy will find her." Jane nodded, knowing in her heart that he would do everything in his power for her sister. "But we must make haste. I cannot leave you or your sisters here with your mother. Go, take Miss Mary and Miss Kitty and tell them to pack some essentials for a few days at Netherfield. Jane, you will need to pack some things for Miss Elizabeth and some clothes for yourself for London – I shall take you there as soon as the girls and your father are taken care of. Your sister may have need of you."

"What of Pappa? What shall we do?" Her eyes filled with tears. "The doctor says that he is very close to death. We cannot leave him here."

"I will direct my staff to have him moved very carefully to Netherfield if the doctor will allow it, and if not, I will hire a nurse to be stationed here to care for him and have my man accompany any of you who come to Longbourn. No harm will be allowed to come to you or your sisters while you are under my care."

"You are too kind, Mr Bingley," Jane spoke softly. "But are you sure this is necessary? Do you really believe we are not safe here?" She wanted to believe that somehow there was good in Mrs Bennet and that she would not stoop to further plots to have her own way.

"Maybe not, Jane, but I confess that I am not willing to wait and find out. Your mother has acted in the most despicable way, and I should not risk leaving you or your sisters here after her unforgiveable behaviour."

Jane nodded. She trusted Mr Bingley above all others, and she would do as he wished.

"I shall ride out to find Darcy. It should not be more than two hours before I return to fetch you all. I will have my footman watch Mrs Bennet carefully until my return. I should not want her to cause any further damage. Please, Jane, make haste." Bingley kissed the back of Jane's hand and quickly stooped down to collect the money from the floor. He would give it to Darcy along with the contract. _Please, do not let us be too late? _he prayed, sending a final scathing glance towards a sobbing Mrs Bennet before leaving the room to be on his way.

_Please review – it makes me happy! _


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks for all of the comments. Thanks to Gayle, my BETA and Wendi, my cold-reader._

**Chapter 7**

In the end, it took Bingley less than an hour to find Darcy, eager as the latter gentleman was to reach Hertfordshire. Bingley had stopped briefly at Netherfield to have his steward see to his plans for Mr Bennet and for Jane and her sisters, and to ensure that Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had not yet arrived.

Then he had set off on his fastest mount in the direction of London, two of his servants following at a more sedate pace on two of his best horses, hoping against hope that Darcy would not choose to take a different route. It seemed his fears were ill-founded as he came upon the two gentlemen half an hour outside Meryton. Their horses were cantering, though not fast enough to prevent Darcy and his cousin from talking and laughing – though if truth be told, most of the laughing was done by the colonel as he teased Darcy about his love for Miss Elizabeth Bennet and his rush to return to be in his lady's presence.

"In the great rush, I had not even time to change my small clothes, Darcy, and I fear that everyone at Netherfield shall suffer for it. I'd best not meet Miss Elizabeth smelling like I do – she may think it is you, and then where would you be?"

"It is hardly my fault, Fitzwilliam, that you cannot learn to keep time satisfactorily. It astonishes me that you are a colonel of the army and yet you cannot rise at the appointed hour. As it was, we left two hours later than I had planned, since I had to fetch you from your father's house." Darcy raised his eyebrow sardonically.

"You almost dragged me from my bed, Darcy. Has the lady bewitched you so thoroughly that such a short delay caused you to turn on one of your dearest relations?"

"I merely dislike having my plans disrupted, Fitzwilliam." Darcy had been anxious this morning, enough to wake his cousin and demand that he be ready in a mere half hour, or face Darcy's leaving without him. Now, however, that he was nearly in Meryton, Darcy relaxed, unable to be anxious when Elizabeth awaited him.

"Ha! She really has you captivated, has she not, old man? If I may say I do not blame you, Darcy, for Miss Bennet is lively and witty and beautiful— everything a man could want in his wife." He glanced at Darcy, whose gaze had turned dark, and burst into merry laughter. "If you could but see the look on your face, Darcy. Never fear, old man. Though I think highly of Miss Bennet, I have understood from the beginning of my acquaintance with your young lady, that she was the one you wanted. Now it seems, she feels the same, or you should not be hurrying back to Hertfordshire to see her. I am right, am I not Darcy? She loves you?" Colonel Fitzwilliam continued to rib Darcy until he agreed.

"I believe she might, cousin. I intend to find out as soon as possible."

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed, and soon Darcy joined him, but the laughter was halted abruptly by the sight of the speeding rider that came towards them. "That is Bingley," Darcy said with concern, urging his horse faster to reach him. "Whatever can he be about?"

"DARCY... DARCY..." Bingley pulled on the reins to halt his horse, coming to a stop beside the gentlemen. His expression itself caused Darcy's stomach to drop. Something was dreadfully wrong. _Could he bear to hear this?_

"What is it, Bingley?" he spoke sharply, his voice unnatural even to his own ears. "What has happened?"

"It is Miss Elizabeth, Darcy. She is even now on her way to London in Mr Charlton's carriage."

Darcy saw red. He had left it too late. Elizabeth had decided to accept Charlton and was even now eloping with him. As soon as the thought entered his brain, his heart immediately refuted it. Elizabeth loved _him_, Darcy was sure. She would never have eloped with Charlton.

"She eloped with him?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. He had obviously taken the same meaning from Bingley's statement. He looked with concern at Darcy.

"NO!"

"NO!" Both Bingley and Darcy exclaimed at once. Darcy did not believe that Elizabeth would ever consent to an elopement, not after her sister Lydia's spectacular affair, and especially with a man she did not love. "Elizabeth would not do that," he said, by way of explanation.

"Jane said much the same thing, Darcy. It is not truly confirmed, but Elizabeth is gone, and Jane and I believe that Mrs Bennet sold her to Charlton. She refused his offer of marriage two days ago, and her mother was very angry with her." Bingley went on to quickly explain the basics of all that had happened: discovering the money and the contract, Mr Bennet's imminent death, and his own plans for the Bennet family, including bringing Jane to London tomorrow."

Darcy could barely sit still, expressing his outrage on more than one occasion with a barely controlled snarl. "I want to ride to Longbourn and wring that woman's neck," he barked. "How could she do this to Elizabeth? How could she?"

"Darcy, I believe we are all asking ourselves that very question, but it does no good to dwell on it now, not when Miss Elizabeth needs you," Bingley said firmly.

"Yes, I must find her. Fitzwilliam?"

"I shall of course accompany you to London. How long ago did they leave, Bingley?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.

"Not more than three hours ago. They could possibly be arriving around now. Here is the money paid to Mrs Bennet and the contract. It would not stand up to scrutiny, Darcy. I believe it is as worthless as the cheap paper that it was written on. Take these horses; they are my best, and I will have yours rested and bring them to London tomorrow." He pointed to two horses from which his men had just dismounted.

"Thank you, Bingley."

"Just find her and keep her safe. God speed, my friend."

* * *

By the time Charlton's carriage pulled up outside a large home, Elizabeth could feel her entire body aching from her attempted escape. Though her injuries were minor, her body had taken a significant impact, and while she would not have minded the pain had she actually managed to flee, the bitterness that she now felt at her failure did nothing but exacerbate it.

The rush of energy she had felt had long since worn off and her knees and hands stung, and her face and dress were covered in dirt from the road. The maid had apologised again and again for giving Elizabeth away with her startled shriek, but Elizabeth, though polite, had not been able to accept it with good grace, so devastated was she at her continued imprisonment.

So, with everything that had occurred this day, Elizabeth was in no mind to be compliant, and she refused to move from the carriage when the footmen bade her to step down. Instead she sat like a queen, poised and regal within the carriage despite her torn dress, bloodied knees and dirty face.

It was there that Charlton found her when he arrived half an hour later, stiff and tired from his ride to London on horseback. For the past five years, Charlton had much preferred to travel in the comfort of a carriage, being not as young and virile as he had once been, and he was feeling the effects of the enforced ride. _It will all be worth it though_, Charlton told himself, as his London house came into view. When Elizabeth was his wife, and when she gave him a strong heir, everything would be as it should.

Though Charlton was not expecting compliance on the part of Elizabeth – she was too spirited and passionate for that – he had not expected to find her still in the carriage, nor to be informed of her attempted escape. That the lady would prefer to injure herself jumping from a moving vehicle rather than be married to him, did not bode well for him. _She does not know what my plans are,_ Charlton told himself_. For all she knows, I have purchased her to be my mistress_. He would clear up that misunderstanding as soon as he could get Elizabeth inside. He intended to achieve_ that _as soon as possible.

Mr Charlton directed his driver to take the coach around to the back of the house where there would be greater privacy if Elizabeth planned to make a scene. He did not want her reputation ruined – not now, when he was so close to getting what he wanted. When the carriage stopped, he marched around to the side and flung open the door, his eyes opening wide when he saw the dirt that covered her.

"Have you no self-respect?" he demanded of Elizabeth.

She refused to turn to face him, instead Elizabeth remained determinedly staring at the opposite side of the carriage, her back stiff and straight. "Step down from the carriage at once."

"I shall do no such thing," Elizabeth responded haughtily. "You have no right to abduct me like this and force me into your company. I wish to go to my Aunt Gardiner's home."

"I have every right, Elizabeth, as you are well aware. I gained that right when your mother _sold_ you to me. Why should you want to go back to relations who would do such a thing? I can give you everything you desire if you are willing to allow me." His tone had lowered, trying as he was to cajole the impertinent Elizabeth out of the carriage.

"I am certain that you threatened my mother in some way, so that she had to capitulate to your wishes. You are despicable, Mr Charlton, and I wish no further contact with you." Elizabeth was not certain that her words regarding Mrs Bennet were true – though she hoped that they were. She did not want to believe that her mother would have willingly entered into such a scheme.

"You could not be more wrong, Elizabeth. Mrs Bennet was only too happy to accept my money. Oh, she protested at first – slightly – but I could see her fingers itching and her eyes gleaming greedily as she thought of the sum that I offered her for you. In the end, she was only too happy to part with you, my dear. I am sorry to have to hurt you in this way, but perhaps it will help you appreciate what I can offer you? Hmmm..." Mr Charlton had stepped into the carriage, and his finger touched Elizabeth's cheek with his last words. She started, blinking rapidly as she attempted to stem the tide of tears that threatened. _Mr Charlton was right – she could never return home!_

"Do not touch me. You have no right to lay a finger on me. Nor do you have a right to speak my given name, as I have told you once before, sir." Elizabeth jerked her face away from Mr Charlton's odious touch.

"You are to be my wife, Elizabeth. I can take whichever liberties I like with your name and your person, and you would do well not to forget it."

"Never!" Elizabeth exclaimed passionately.

Mr Charlton's hands came up to grasp Elizabeth's chin and forced her around to face him. "You have no opinion in this matter that I care to hear, Elizabeth! Now, I tire of this childish game. Remove yourself from this carriage this instant, or I shall be forced to do it for you." He stepped out and waited, tapping a booted foot impatiently. "I do not jest, Elizabeth. _Get out_!"

"I will not obey you. I am staying here..." Before Elizabeth could finish her speech, Mr Charlton lunged into the carriage and pulled her bodily from it. She kicked and screamed, uncaring of the scene that she was making or of who would see her. She was a woman fighting for her survival but too weak to win, and soon, Elizabeth found herself thrust against the door to Mr Charlton's sitting room, his hands releasing her momentarily, only to press one forcefully just below her collarbone in order to keep her there. She was puffing and panting, her face red from exertion, and angry tears fell from her eyes. She was so helpless – though she tried, his one hand had her pinned against the wall, and she could not move. She kicked at him, but Charlton just took a step back so that she could not reach him, and she was enraged at the amused smiled that played upon his lips.

"Now," he spoke calmly when Elizabeth stopped fighting, drooping limply against the wall. "I expect you to wash and change your clothes for our wedding. We shall be leaving for the church in one hour, and if you are not ready by the time I knock on your chamber door, I shall come in and dress you myself."

* * *

After Elizabeth was escorted to her room by the same wide-eyed maid as accompanied her in the carriage, she slammed the door and leant against it heavily. Wracking sobs overcame her – the pain of her hands and knees, the betrayal of her mother, Mr Charlton's cruelty, and the loss of Mr Darcy – the combined assaults would no longer allow her to be strong.

Elizabeth had no doubt that Mr Charlton would force her to marry him, though how he would manage to conceal the fact that she would never speak a word of the vows to him, she could not guess. If only she could count on Mr Darcy to come and find her – to take her away from this nightmare once and for all – to be her saviour, as he was Lydia's. But how would he find out? Unless Jane became suspicious enough to question their mother or until she found Elizabeth's ruby cross, her sisters would be none the wiser. And her poor Pappa... would he wake wanting her? Would he, too, feel abandoned by his favourite? Elizabeth's heart broke at the certain knowledge that she would probably never see him again, and she knew that she could never forgive her mother if she could not say one last goodbye.

She wiped the tears from her face and felt the sting as she brushed dirt into them, and she gasped when she glanced in the looking glass. What a bedraggled picture she made, tear tracks down the centre of her dirty face, and a small yellow bruise over her jaw, no doubt sustained during her bid for freedom. Elizabeth carefully washed her face to remove the worst of it, and then sat upon a chair to tend to her poor hands and knees, scratched and covered with dried blood and embedded with small pieces of rock.

When she had finished, Elizabeth removed her torn dress, not because he had told her to, but because she could not bear to remain so dirty indefinitely, and called the maid to her. "I need for you to bring me one of your dresses."

The maid stammered and stared at Elizabeth as if she had gone mad. "Surely my dresses are not good enough for you, Miss? I have nothin' grand enough."

"I do not require something grand," Elizabeth said. "I want the worst dress that you own. I shall give you one of my dresses in return. I need it quickly though. Please, do this for me?" she pleaded.

As the maid rushed off to do Elizabeth's bidding, the lady herself smiled at this little act of defiance.

* * *

It seemed like the longest journey of his life, though the distance was relatively short.

The only sounds that he allowed himself to focus on were the steady beat of the horses pounding the ground beneath them and his own laboured breathing.

He would not under any circumstances allow himself to think of Elizabeth – her beloved voice calling for him to help her.

Colonel Fitzwilliam kept up with him without complaint, his loyalty and support a balm to Darcy's injured soul.

They would find her.

And they would remove her from Charlton's sight.

And then, if she would have him, Darcy would marry Elizabeth as soon as possible.

As they neared London, Darcy prayed that finding Charlton's house would be easy. Indeed, a man like him, so full of his own importance, would no doubt flaunt his fortune by purchasing an estate in a fashionable part of the city... and would spare no detail in his boasting of it. The only difficulty that Darcy could foresee was the possibility that the man had spirited Elizabeth off to some unknown destination so that they would not be found. He tried not to dwell upon that circumstance and decided to worry about that only if it proved to be true. He needed to reserve all of his strength to find Elizabeth – not to agonize over what if's.

Darcy and the colonel discussed their plan as they came into the outskirts of the city. The colonel would travel straight on to the area in which Charlton's business offices were, there to enquire after his home address. Darcy would travel to his own home to have a room prepared and his carriage readied for Elizabeth's use. It was thus that the cousins parted, with a plan to meet back at Darcy House within the hour if at all possible – for the time was growing late and darkness was settling over the city. If Elizabeth was forced to spend the night with Charlton... Darcy stopped the thought as soon as it entered his head. He could not bear it.

And after only a very short time in a nearby inn, using coins to loosen the tongues of the locals, Colonel Fitzwilliam had discovered the address of the man's home and then made his way quickly back to Darcy House, where he found Darcy pacing, his sword at his hip and an agonised expression on his face at the enforced wait.

* * *

Mr Charlton knocked curtly on the door to Elizabeth's chamber exactly one hour after he had escorted her to it.

He puffed out his chest and glanced down at his outfit, especially chosen for this very event – his marriage. He smoothed an invisible fleck of dust from the navy blue sleeve of his coat and twitched his immaculately tied cravat fussily. He could feel his excitement growing by the second – knowing now that there was no way Elizabeth could escape this marriage.

The parson whom he had hired to preside over the ceremony was waiting for them below stairs and would travel with them to the church where he would perform the ceremony. Though Charlton's pocket was considerably lighter than it had been thirty minutes ago, the money was no loss if Mr Dean would overlook the bride's probable reluctance – in point of fact, her outright refusal if her behaviour earlier had been any indication.

No, there was no protest that Elizabeth could make that would spare her from giving her hand to Charlton in marriage, and then nothing would prevent him from taking his marital rights and making her his. By tomorrow morning, Elizabeth would be forever grateful to him for this enforced marriage – her passionate nature, and his plan to show her how to direct that passion, would no doubt succeed.

Charlton heard nothing within Elizabeth's chamber, and annoyed, he turned the handle, fully prepared to enter uninvited. To his infuriation, the door would not open. The foolish woman had locked him out.

"Elizabeth, open this door at once!" he bellowed, rapping forcefully against the door.

"I will not," came the belligerent reply. Charlton's face turned red with rage, and his blood boiled.

"If you do not open this door, this _instant_, so help me... I will..." he spluttered, and flecks of spittle landed on the door. He took a hand and wiped it impatiently over his mouth, eyes popping, fists clenching.

"I do not take kindly to threats, sir!" Elizabeth replied calmly from her side of the door, when in truth she was fearful, and regretting the impulse that had led her lock to it in the first place. She knew that it would not buy her much time – but she felt that she had to try.

"HASTINGS!" The sheer volume of the roar shook the banister of the staircase so that every occupant of the house jumped in fright, before scurrying on with their duties. Hastings, however, practically ran to his master's side, bowing and stammering in fear that he had done something that had caused displeasure. "Open this door at once!" Charlton demanded of the man.

Hastings removed a large ring of keys from where it hung about his waist and fumbled with it, his fingers trembling in such anxiety that he could not immediately locate the correct one. "NOW!" Charlton thundered, turning a deeper shade of crimson.

Elizabeth heard the key turning in the lock and eyed the chair that she had wedged against the door. Her eyes widened, and she crept back against the farthest wall, wishing for an escape. She knew that the chair would only stop him for a moment – what was she to do then?

Elizabeth jumped when she heard the bellow of fury from Mr Charlton when he discovered the chair in the way. But in just a moment, the splintering sound of shattering wood filled the room, and as if in slow motion, she watched in horror as pieces of wood flew about, and she noted the now puce shade of Charlton's skin as he burst in to the room, his bulging eyes searching wildly for her.

He caught sight of her, and Elizabeth stepped back, her foot coming into contact with the wall, and with nowhere further to go. He seemed to not be able to speak, his mouth opened and closed in rage as he stared at her dress – or perhaps rag would be a more apt description. "I warned you," he screamed across the room. "You are a stupid woman to continue to defy me." His fist was raised in her direction, and he took slow steps towards her. "Remove that... atrocity at once and dress in something more appropriate..." he indicated to the maid's dress that Elizabeth wore.

The maid surfaced seemingly from nowhere and stood on the other side of the room, in fear for the lady. "You told me to change, and I did so," Elizabeth spoke, her voice betraying her as her confidence fled. She was frightened for her safety.

Charlton grabbed Elizabeth by both arms, his pose and hold of her threatening. "You stupid girl, I cannot waste my energy on you any longer. Do you wish me to dress you in something more appropriate?" he bellowed, and Elizabeth felt the tears come into her eyes. She refused to let them spill.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Then change. I will give you five minutes." Charlton strode from the room and slammed the door.

"Hastings," he spoke to the man who stood with the keys still resting in limp fingers. "Inform Mr Dean that the marriage ceremony will take place in the drawing room. I want this to be done as soon as possible."

_Please leave feedback. It's much appreciated_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks for all the comments. Thanks to Gayle, my BETA and Wendi, my cold-reader, for all of their hard work and support._

**Chapter 8**

"We have come here today, to join together in holy matrimony, this man and this woman."

Tears spilled down Elizabeth's cheeks as she stood next to Charlton, his grip punishing upon her arm, as if he was afraid she would try to escape.

The familiar words of the marriage ceremony washed over her as Elizabeth tried desperately to think of some way to prevent this nightmare from coming true. _No man of God would make her marry someone against her will, would he? _Elizabeth thought, her eyes moving to the face of the parson who spoke the words in a voice completely monotone. She tried desperately to catch his eye, but Mr Dean refused to look in her direction.

_This should be Mr Darcy standing with me, reciting our vows_, Elizabeth thought as her heart slowly broke. It should be he who gazed down at her, his brown eyes enough to melt her, his lop-sided smile for only her. But now, she would never have that chance. She would be forced to stay with Charlton forever, for if she chose to run away from him, she would be irreversibly ruined. Darcy would never look at her with love in his eyes again.

"Do you, Elizabeth Bennet take this man to be your husband?" Mr Dean asked, startling Elizabeth from her distressing thoughts. Her eyes darted around desperately, searching for something or someone to save her.

"No," she said.

"What did you say?" the parson stammered, looking towards Charlton for instructions.

"She said yes. Now get on with it, man," Charlton growled. Mr Dean flushed and continued speaking.

Something snapped within her, a wire that had been coiling and twisting, until it was beyond breaking point. "NO," Elizabeth screamed. "I will _not_ marry him. I said NO!" She wrenched herself from Charlton's grasp and moved towards the parson, and she came to her knees before him, unable to stand from the trembling that had overtaken her entire body. "Please do not force me to do this, I beg you," she pleaded, her eyes turned up towards Mr Dean and swimming in tears.

"GET UP," Charlton demanded, rushing to Elizabeth and pulling her to her feet, while she cried and sobbed and begged the parson to stop this while he still could.

Suddenly, there was a commotion from the next room, and men's voices could be heard within. Charlton immediately identified the deep voice of Darcy, demanding entry. But Elizabeth, too far gone in her panic, heard nothing. Charlton dragged her to the next room – the library – and locked the door. "Stay there and keep quiet," he ordered the sobbing woman, who fell in an unresisting heap on a chair.

* * *

"Where is she?" Darcy burst into the room, his eyes frantically searching every corner for a glimpse of his beloved Elizabeth. Her apple scent lingered in the air, and he knew that she had been there. "I know she is here!" he growled, his hand reaching for Charlton and taking his cravat in a tight grip.

"I know not what you are speaking of," Charlton sniffed with disdain. His own hands came up in instinctive response and covered Darcy's, fighting for release.

Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the room and watched as his cousin easily overpowered the larger man. Darcy had always been athletic, the best at fencing and fighting, though one would not think it to look at him. The colonel had achieved his mastery of fighting through diligent practice, but Darcy had all natural talent. Thus, the colonel did not feel the need to intervene in this little scene, feeling certain of its outcome.

"Where is Miss Bennet?" Darcy ground out through clenched teeth. Every uncivil instinct in him was urging him to plant his fist into this odious man's face and be done with it.

"There is no such person here," Charlton goaded. Darcy forced Charlton against the wall, enraged.

"I know that she is with you. So where is she?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam drew his sword and came close, pointing the tip at the man's chest. "I believe that my cousin asked you a question," he said calmly, all the while yielding his deadly weapon with ease.

"Oh, you must be speaking of my wife. Miss Bennet as was – now Mrs Charlton," the man replied with a smile, but both Darcy and the colonel could see the nervous sweat that beaded his upper lip.

"You LIE!" Darcy growled. "You there," he demanded of Mr Dean. The parson stepped forward, gulping in fear. He knew of Mr Darcy and that he was not a man you could ignore, especially when he was accompanied by a colonel of the regiment. "Is this man married to Miss Bennet?" he barked.

Though Charlton tried to communicate his warning of what would happen should the parson not support him, Mr Dean refused to look at the other man, instead addressing his full attention to Darcy. "They were almost married. Your entrance interrupted the ceremony," he stammered, and bowed as he hastily rushed from the room, hoping to get as far away as he could with the money that Charlton had paid him for a service that he had not been able to provide.

"Fitzwilliam," Darcy addressed his cousin. "Go and find Elizabeth. I shall deal with this rogue" Colonel Fitzwilliam sheathed his sword and left the room.

* * *

The panic hit.

A black cloud swirled over and within her, suffocating her with its very desolation.

Elizabeth knew that in a few more moments, Charlton would come to get her, and she would be married to him with just a few more words from the parson who did not seem inclined to help her.

She glanced desperately around the room, searching for a way to escape, knowing that anything would be better than spending her life married to the likes of Charlton.

She rattled both of the door handles at each end of the room. They were securely locked.

Her last avenue of escape was the window. She rushed across to it and dragged a chair underneath so that she could see out. It was quite high up – there was no way Elizabeth could safely jump from the height of the window without doing herself serious damage. But there was a tree, and Elizabeth knew that climbing down it was her only hope.

Had she only known that it was Darcy in the next room, she would not have opened the window, climbed up upon the sill and balanced precariously on it while tears continued to blind her.

* * *

Darcy had been threatening Charlton with financial ruin when he heard the noise.

"Fitzwilliam," he called out, and his cousin came. "In there," he pointed to the door of the library. "I heard the door rattling a few moments ago. Please take her safely out to the carriage." The colonel rushed over to the door and tried it. But it was locked.

"The key," he demanded Charlton, but the man refused to give it up. So the colonel, with a few well placed shoulders in the door, which would be sure to bruise later, crashed the door in.

"Miss Bennet," he cried, searching the room. Then he saw her. He rushed over to the open window where Elizabeth balanced, the look of horror illuminating her face as her face stared blankly and frozenly at him. "Come down," he said calmly.

"Get away from me," Elizabeth screamed. She recognised nothing except that there was a man who was trying to stop her escape after noisily bashing the door down to reach her. Her breathing was too fast, and her balance too unsteady, and the colonel feared the worst.

He stepped back and spoke as softly as he could. "Miss Bennet, it is Colonel Fitzwilliam, Darcy's cousin. You know me – I am not here to harm you, only to take you safely away from here." Elizabeth did not hear him, instead she turned back to the street, and placed a foot onto a tree limb, too flimsy even for her slight weight.

The colonel rushed from the room and summoned Darcy with a few words. He grasped Charlton by the throat and took over the guarding of him. "She needs you." Darcy felt panic grip his entire being, and he rushed into the room.

"Elizabeth," he spoke loudly, and then came to a halt when he saw her, one foot on the window sill and the other on a tree branch. He came forward, step by cautious step. "Elizabeth... come inside... you are safe now. It is I, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

_That_ Elizabeth heard, and her head snapped up, turning to try to see him. "Mr Darcy?" she spoke in a small, childlike voice, through her tears, no longer knowing what to believe.

"Yes, Elizabeth, please come down?" Darcy pleaded. He stepped closer again so that he was within touching distance. All that remained was to reach out and take her hand.

"Please tell me you have come to take me away from here…" she whispered.

"I promise, my love, I shall take you away from here, but you must come down. Take my hand," Darcy crooned softly.

Elizabeth's entire body trembled. She felt the tremors go through every inch of her, from her toes to the very ends of her hair. _He had come for her. She would not have to marry Charlton. _But with the shuddering, her balance became even more unsteady, and as she lifted her foot that rested on the flimsy tree branch, the crack of the limb caused her to slip.

Elizabeth shrieked, and Darcy rushed forward, grasping her securely around the waist before she could fall. He dragged her back into the room, as she collapsed on the floor in a trembling heap, Darcy crouching with her for support.

"You will be fine now, Elizabeth. I shall take you home and leave you in the capable hands of my housekeeper," Darcy told her, knowing that she could pay him no heed in her current state of shock. He glanced across at Colonel Fitzwilliam, who understood his intention. Darcy would take Elizabeth to his home while his cousin guarded Charlton, and then he would return to deal with the man who had taken his beloved against her own will.

Elizabeth glanced up at him, in childlike appeal, as he supported her on the floor. "Not to Longbourn?" she pleaded. The fat tears that seeped from wide eyes in her ethereally pale face caused Darcy's heart to squeeze.

"Of course, not to Longbourn. You will go to my London home. And your sister will be there with you tomorrow." Darcy took both of Elizabeth's hands in his. "Come," he murmured, but Elizabeth did not stand up, her body limp on the floor.

Darcy lifted her into his arms effortlessly and carried her out to the carriage, nodding to the colonel on his way past and speaking softly to him, "I shall return as soon as I get Miss Bennet home."

At the carriage, Darcy informed three of his men to go inside to help the colonel guard Charlton, and he told the man's own servants that if they assisted Charlton, they would be charged as an accessory to their master's crime.

Darcy placed Elizabeth gently into the carriage and climbed in beside her. She seemed almost startled when he sat opposite her, glancing up as if surprised to see him, but then she visibly relaxed when she recognised that it was Darcy.

"You came for me?" she said in a childlike voice, unconvinced that she could be the sole reason of Darcy's being there.

Darcy shifted forward so that he was sitting on the very edge of the seat, and he took Elizabeth's cold hands in his. He noticed the grazes on her palms from her jump out of the carriage. He looked deeply into her eyes and spoke to her. "Of course, I came for you. Even had you already been forced to marry that scoundrel, I would not have left you there. Did he hurt you?"

Elizabeth shook her head in answer to his question. "You were almost too late," she whispered.

"Thank the lord that I was not," Darcy affirmed as he let his hands caress hers for the short journey back to his London home.

* * *

When Darcy returned to Charlton's home, Colonel Fitzwilliam looked almost bored as he lounged against a wall, while Darcy's three men each guarded a doorway. Charlton was wandering around the room, demanding in loud tones that he be released. Darcy thundered into the room, and took a hold of Charlton's coat, the older man spluttering and cursing as he did so, as Darcy pushed him down into a deep armchair.

"Charlton, you have much to answer for..." Darcy started to say in a barely controlled voice, which, despite his every effort to control it, trembled with rage.

"You had no right to remove Elizabeth from my house," Charlton said indignantly. "She _belongs_ to _me_."

"She belongs to no man," Darcy growled, pacing the room like a caged lion ready to strike out at the first living thing crossing its path. "And you would do well to remember to address her with the respect that is due to her as a lady."

"Like you were doing in the library, and when you had your arms all over her?" Charlton goaded.

Darcy only glared, before cursing, and grating out his response. "Miss Bennet was here against her will. _I_ was trying to save her life. She so desperately wanted to escape from _you_ that she almost killed herself in the attempt."

"She IS MINE!" Charlton roared. He came to his feet and stormed over to stand in front of Darcy. "Bring her back to me, or I shall ruin her." His large face was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration, and his eyes sparkled menacingly.

Charlton found that he cared little that Elizabeth was gone, excepting the fact that his own plans had been thwarted, and that he would never experience the delights of her body that he had promised himself. But he would not give up without a fight – he would ruin the insolent Elizabeth Bennet, and with her reputation, he would ruin any chance of her ever marrying any man of worth. Darcy would not take a ruined woman; he would not risk the scandal to his family name, even the threat of a scandal would have him running from Elizabeth. Charlton found himself laughing inside – Elizabeth would pay for what she had done to him – one day, when she was beyond marriageable age, she would regret Charlton. Maybe someday, she would come crawling back to beg him to take her.

"You will do no such thing!" Darcy's low, threatening voice startled Charlton from his pleasing thoughts, and he noticed that the colonel was now standing directly next to Darcy, both pairs of eyes fierce as they glared at him.

"Elizabeth was alone with me, and she was in my carriage for hours. That will be enough for society to condemn her. She will be ruined, and her family will be ruined with her. She defied me, and so she must pay for it." Charlton took a step backwards as Darcy and the colonel advanced, their expressions growing angrier with every word he spoke. Yet, Charlton delighted in tormenting them – he found that he could not stop.

"I know that you want her for yourself, Darcy!" he goaded. "I know that you want her to belong to you. But when she is cloaked in scandal, she will have no protector in you. I do not blame you for your preference for her - her delightful body is enough to make any man want to take her and make her scream in..." His last words were gurgled as Darcy, enraged beyond all of his control at the lewd remarks about his beloved Elizabeth, grabbed him around the throat and lifted him into the air. Charlton's hands clutched his throat, clawing at the fingers which held him securely.

"You bastard," Darcy was grating. "How dare you speak of Miss Bennet that way. If you EVER lay a hand on her, or speak even one word against her, I shall hunt you down, and I shall kill you."

"And if he does not, then I shall!" Colonel Fitzwilliam finally spoke. He placed a hand on Darcy's shoulder, and Darcy, coming to his senses, released Charlton, and his shoulders dropped.

Charlton fell into the chair behind him and clutched his throat as he gasped for air. "You are crazy," he managed to gulp out through laboured breaths.

"No, he is not crazy, but now you can see what my cousin is capable of when he is crossed," the colonel said with a hint of nonchalance. "You would do well not to try anything that would cause any hint of scandal for Miss Bennet, or my cousin here _will_ carry out his threat, and I shall be right there with him."

Darcy, recovering himself, took some papers from his pocket and thrust him in Charlton's face. "There are worse things that I can do to you, Charlton," he spoke, watching the older man's colour fade rapidly. "You once cheated me, and I chose not to prosecute. I still have the proof, and now I have the motivation to ruin _you_ for what you have done."

"You would not..." Charlton spluttered, attempting to wrest the papers from Darcy's grasp.

"Oh, yes, I would. You _cheated_ me, and you cheated at least four other men, all of whom are now in a better position in society to come out and ruin your business interests forever. You convinced us to invest in your business, and then you claimed that the money had been lost. I, being the young and naive boy that I was, chose to believe you, and then chose to excuse you when I discovered your duplicity. You would never have given that money back had I not investigated your so-called _failed_ scheme. Yet, I gave you another chance. And look what you have done? Tried to buy a lady to force her to become your wife by convincing a grieving mother that her problems would end if she consented to give you her daughter," Darcy spoke.

"Mrs Bennet did not take much convincing. She was happy to take the money. I think she wanted to be rid of Elizabeth, and I was going to take her away from a family that did not want her. I would have made her happy," Charlton groaned. He knew that he had been defeated.

"If you breathe one word... even _one_... against Miss Elizabeth Bennet; if I so much as hear the _whisper_ of her name in relation to you on the lips of one person; I shall ensure that _this,_" he waved the papers, "comes out to the _entire_ business world. Not one person that I know shall do business with you, and before long, you shall be out on the streets living like a pauper. Do you understand me, Charlton?" Darcy placed one hand on each side of the scoundrel's arm chair and leaned in so that his face was only threatening inches from Charlton's. He waited, his eyes boring into Charlton's.

"I said, _do you understand me_?"

Charlton gulped, and then slowly nodded. There was nothing he could do now. If Darcy chose to reveal what he knew, the rest of his cheating ways would no doubt come to the surface. Gossip was rife among Darcy's levels of society, and Charlton had cheated many gentlefolk in his time. He would be ruined, and he would lose his very livelihood.

Darcy moved back and folded the papers to replace them in his pocket. Charlton, filled with hatred for Darcy, came to his feet. When the colonel was dismissing Darcy's men, and Darcy's back was turned, he grabbed the nearest object, a heavy vase. He moved quickly towards the man and lifted the vase above his head.

The colonel turned at that moment, shouting Darcy's name, and his warning to Darcy caused his cousin to whirl quickly around, raising his arm above his head to prevent a deathly blow. The vase shattered, and Darcy cursed. His arm had borne the brunt of the blow, and blood seeped from the cut that had resulted. He raised his uninjured arm and slammed his fist into Charlton's face; in one blow, sending the man crashing to the floor.

"Let us get out of here," he spoke tersely, sparing only the smallest glance for the fallen Charlton. "I _must_ get back to Miss Bennet."

_Please comment_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks for all the comments to my last chapter. Here is the next chapter early since I will be away all weekend. I will not be posting on Sunday! Happy Easter! Thanks to Gayle, for Beta-ing, and Wendi, for cold-reading._

**Chapter 9**

It felt like hours before Mr Darcy returned, and Elizabeth paced about her room, straining her ears to hear the sound of him within the large house. She had refused to change into her nightgown following her bath, dressing instead in her simplest dress of white muslin, for she had to see for herself that he was safe.

When he had not returned by midnight, Elizabeth despaired of listening for him from her room, and so padded quietly down to the library, where the housekeeper had said that Mr Darcy did all of his business. She picked a book from the shelves and opened it, but her hands trembled so that she could not even hold it, let alone find the concentration to read a word. "Please come back safely, my love", she spoke out loud, startling herself with the sound of her voice in the silent room. She sat by the fire for a time, comforted by the warmth and the implication that the household expected the master home and that soon he would be in this room, and she would see him with her own eyes.

She was still in a state of shock that he had actually come for her – that he had pursued Charlton back to London to rescue her from his repulsive clutches. Elizabeth had not believed that her love for Mr Darcy could get any stronger, yet she could feel it blossoming within her like a rose opening its petals to full bloom, this last selfless act the sun that encouraged its growth.

At last she heard it – the sound of his rich voice speaking in hushed tones to one of the servants. Her heart pounded within her chest, such that she did not know how it could not but be heard throughout the entire house, loud as it was. It seemed a long time before he entered the room, and Elizabeth was afraid that he had retired directly to his chamber. Had he done so, she would have been lost; for right now, she needed to see him more than she needed air to breathe.

"Mrs Harris, thank you for your assistance. Please tell all of the remaining servants to retire – I shall have need of nothing further tonight." His voice at the door caused Elizabeth to turn to face it, anxiously awaiting his appearance on her side of it.

Then it opened, and Elizabeth felt her gaze soften as she took in his haggard appearance. His brown curly hair was dishevelled more than its usual wont, and his eyes drooped with stress and lack of sleep. His jacket and waistcoat had been discarded, and he stood before her in nothing but a loose shirt and breeches. His sleeve was turned up... and stained with... was that blood? Elizabeth gasped and stepped forward until the light from the fire illuminated her.

At first, Darcy did not see Elizabeth, his preoccupation so great at the madness of this day and his relief so profound that his beloved was safe under his roof that he had failed to look about him. He thought that he must be dreaming when the vision of Elizabeth stepped out from dark shadows into the firelight, her gasp shattering the silence that shrouded the room.

"Am I so exhausted that I am dreaming when I am awake?" Darcy breathed out, as his eyes attempted to absorb the delightful image of Elizabeth standing cloaked in soft firelight, her hair loose about her shoulders, chocolate brown eyes warm and filled with an emotion so powerful that he did not want to look away, her rosy lips parted on the end of her gasp. "Elizabeth...?" he asked huskily, believing himself to be dreaming.

"Mr Darcy, you are hurt?" The vision spoke, and stepped forward, and Darcy knew that she was really there – and that he was alone with her. A slender white hand reverently touched the bandage that Mrs Reynolds had just secured over his cut.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy recovered himself, stepping from her reach and bowing. "You must allow me to apologise for my informality a moment ago. I fear that I forgot myself and believed myself to be dreaming. Are you well?" His eyebrows furrowed in concern for Elizabeth.

"I am as well as can be expected, Mr Darcy; I thank you for asking. I know that you did not expect me here, sir, but I had to be sure that you were safe before I could even attempt sleep." She stared down in concern at the bandage.

"I am safe, Miss Bennet, as you can see." Mr Darcy smiled wanly as her hand moved forward and gently stroked the bandage.

"What of this? He did injure you. Is it serious?" her voice was a whisper, and she was close enough that she had to tip up her head to catch his eyes with her own.

Darcy trembled with desire. Elizabeth was so close to him – her eyes and thoughts full of him – her concern for him – her voice so soft in the ethereal world created by the firelight. He wanted nothing more than to take one step closer and wrap his hands into her loose hair and crush her against him, never to release her. He was certain that she, being the sweet, innocent creature that she was, knew not how she was tempting him, and he fought with himself to subdue his needs and step away.

When he spoke, his voice came out more forcefully than he intended, so focussed was he on suppressing his passionate love for Elizabeth. "Miss Bennet, please do not..."

She frowned in confusion. "Do not what?"

"Do not touch me. I cannot bear it." He closed his eyes against the temptation of her – so close to him.

Elizabeth stepped back as though he had struck her, her eyes pricked with tears. _Now she knew!_ Mr Darcy could not bear to have her near him when she had been so compromised. He would save her for her own sake, but he would not marry her. Elizabeth felt like her heart was breaking.

She backed away from him towards the door, her eyes taking her fill of his form as if this would be the last time she would see him. But before she left, she wanted him to know how grateful she was for everything that he had done for her.

At first her words came out in a whisper, but soon she was able to feign some semblance of normalcy. "I am sorry for any distress that I may have caused you, Mr Darcy. I was merely concerned for you and afraid that you had been harmed because of me. I completely understand why you would not want me here with you, after my reputation has been compromised... and coupled with the scandal of Lydia's elopement. I shall leave here tomorrow and go to my aunt's house – you need never see me again, sir." Darcy was staring intently at Elizabeth now, opening his mouth as if to speak. But Elizabeth continued before he could gain his voice. "Please, there is something else that I need to say to you. I must thank you for everything that you have done for me and my family. Without your intervention today, I would be even now married to that..." Her voice faded and her body trembled at the thought. "I cannot even speak his name. You did not have to help me, but you did, and your selfless actions have saved me. I can also never thank you enough for what you did for Lydia – and I have long been ashamed of what I said to you that day in Kent, when I accused you of all manner of things and spoke so hatefully towards you. For that reason and none other, I would have expected nothing but hatred in return; yet, you have shown your kindness to me again and again, and wanted nothing in return. Mr Darcy, you are the best man that I have ever known, and I will never forget what you have done for me." Her voice was husky as Elizabeth expressed everything she needed to say to him if she was never going to see him again, but her heart felt like it would break in two, and she wanted nothing more than to flee to her room to sob out her misery.

Her eyes met his, and there was an expression within his that she could not read, and when her own filled with tears, she spun around so that she would no longer have to torture herself. She turned the door handle. "Goodbye," she said, and in her mind she added what she longed to say to him. _My love. _

Darcy was stunned. How could he have led Elizabeth to believe that he did not want her in his life... that he wanted her out of his home. He had almost groaned aloud when he had realised what she had thought, when his only reason for speaking had been to save her from himself. Then she had spoken so passionately and so sweetly, and his heart had soared at the knowledge that her opinion of him had changed so completely, and he had wanted to stop her but had found that he could not.

He could not let Elizabeth walk out the door without explaining himself, but he was afraid that when he did, he would no longer be able to let her out of the room without laying hands on her – his arms around her, his fingers tangled in her hair, his lips on her delicate skin – he wanted it all.

"Miss Bennet, wait!" he forced himself to speak. Darcy watched as she stilled, her hand poised on the door handle, her back straight, yet she did not turn around. "Please…" he pleaded, "you mistook my meaning. You cannot leave until you hear my explanation."

"Mr Darcy, I am not sure that I can bear to hear it right now. You need not explain – I do understand the workings of the world. My reputation was destroyed the moment I was forced into that carriage. I do not blame you for your feelings." Elizabeth's voice was muffled against the door.

Darcy could stand it no longer. He placed a hand onto hers that was now clutching the door handle and prised it from its death hold. Then he gently turned her to face him. "Reputation be damned, Elizabeth..." his growl belying his gentle movements. "Can you really think that I would turn you from my presence for a situation that was entirely not of your making? That my affections would cease immediately and stop me from ever seeing you again?" His eyes bore down into hers, imparting in his gaze the truth in his words.

"I would not blame you, sir!" Elizabeth whispered.

"That alone makes you a diamond among women, Miss Bennet."

"Then why did you tell me not to touch you?" she spoke quietly.

"If you cannot guess, then I shall tell you, but I fear you may be shocked, Miss Bennet. I could not bear to have you so close to me, touching me, caring for me, when all I wanted to do was pull you into my arms and never let you go. I wanted to do what no gentleman should do to a lady, and if I had given into those desires, I should have been worse than Mr Charlton – compromising you, when all I want is for you never to be hurt again."

"Oh." Her lips shaped the word, her shock palpable in the now quiet room. She could think of nothing else to say, though her body and her heart ached for Mr Darcy to do just what he had just described. She could think of nothing more delightful than to be in the warmth of his embrace, his arms securely around her, so that she could escape from the pain of the last few days. Would he think her wanton if she stepped against him and laid her head against his chest? Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment at the direction of her thoughts.

"It would be bad enough, Miss Bennet, were you in a usual state of mind," Darcy continued, needing to break the heated silence of the room that threatened to entice him closer to his love. "You have had a trying few days, to say the least. I do not understand how you can still be holding it all together with such strength and dignity."

Elizabeth felt tears fill her eyes at the reminder of all that she had been through – the emotional turmoil of the past minutes adding to her emotional vulnerability. Here was the man she loved standing before her, caring for her, and she just wanted to break down and let him comfort her. But Elizabeth could see that he was fighting with himself, and she did not want him to regret anything that they might do together. So with great strength, she turned away and opened the door.

"Thank you for telling me that. I should retire to my chamber now, or I fear that I shall..." a small sob escaped from her throat and Elizabeth could not continue. Instead, she stepped out and closed the door, her body shaking as she broke down into a silent fit of tears.

Darcy felt the void as soon as she stepped out of the room. He had seen how her dark eyelashes had become wet with tears, and he had been so close to reaching for her when Elizabeth had stepped out of the room. _What would it matter if they were caught embracing?_ Darcy asked himself as he moved closer to the door. He intended to marry Elizabeth anyway, and if she chose not to accept him, Darcy knew that his staff were discrete and would not gossip.

He opened the door, expecting to find that she had departed for her chamber; but instead, she stood, her back facing him, slender shoulders shaking in distress, her hands pressed against her face that had dropped downward in defeat. "Elizabeth..." Darcy groaned. His mind was made up. She needed _him_ now more than any other thing, and he would comfort her. His hands came up to grasp her shoulders, and he turned and steered her pliant body back into the warmth of his library.

Elizabeth had finally succumbed to the misery that had plagued her since the moment she had discovered her mother's betrayal, and if she were honest, from the moment that her father had become deathly ill. She had not wanted Darcy to see her break down, so sure that he would abhor any display of excessive emotion and be unable to deal with it. But by the time he had taken hold of her shoulders and led her into the room that she had recently vacated, she could do nothing more than let him – she even felt keenly the loss of his touch as he removed his hands from her shoulders to close the door.

As much as she wanted to stop herself from her wretched crying, Elizabeth's heart would not obey her stubborn mind. All she wanted was to hear Darcy's voice assuring her that he would take care of her, that he loved her, and that he would not allow her to be lost in a half-life of damaged reputation. She stood, trembling, tears pouring down her face, her hands covering her features as if to hide the extent of her despair.

Darcy had never seen anything that inspired so much tenderness as did the sight of his beloved thus. Contrary to her belief, Darcy felt nothing but love and a desire to be a comfort to her. Undaunted by her womanly tears, except in the knowledge that Elizabeth's heart was deeply wounded by all that had happened, he regarded her for just a moment, before he stood before her, not touching her, and spoke, "Elizabeth, I want to hold you in my arms. Will you not let me give you that comfort?" He was so unsure of his welcome that Darcy found his voice shaking as he said the words. He prayed that she would not feel insulted by his invitation.

But then Elizabeth looked up, her luminous eyes sparkling with the wetness of her tears, and her eyes met his. Darcy held out his arms for her to come to him. And with nothing more than a short cry of longing, Elizabeth launched herself against him, her hands pressed against his upper arms and her face against his chest.

Darcy breathed out his relief in one long, deep exhalation, as his hands closed around the body of his beautiful Elizabeth - pressing her to him, one hand wrapping around her slender waist and the other tangling in her tumbling curls.

"Elizabeth, do not cry so. I cannot bear to see you this distressed," he murmured the words tenderly as her cries continued; Darcy could feel the dampness of her tears through his thin shirt. He rocked his body gently with hers, like a slow, soft dance, sweet and soothing in equal measure. And while he held her there, Darcy knew that all was finally right in his world – finally he had found his purpose, and Elizabeth was in his arms where she belonged. _How could he ever consider letting her go after this if she insisted on it – if she did not love him?_ Her soft, shapely curves pressed against him, the scent of her hair – apples and a touch of mint — her cascading dark brown locks that felt like silk beneath his fingertips, and the knowledge that she was there willingly, taking his love and not shying away: it was his heaven, and he did not wish to give it up.

She cried, and he whispered words of reassurance while they stood together by the firelight. And all too soon, Darcy felt Elizabeth pulling back, and he shuddered as her soft hand gently stroked the damp cloth where her head had been. "I am so sorry," she spoke huskily, eyes staring at the spot. Then realising what she was doing, Elizabeth pulled her hand away in shock. "I should not have imposed upon you that way, sir. Perhaps it would be best if I left you now," she continued, swallowing over the lump that sat in the back of her throat and wishing that she could stay with him forever.

Darcy reached out and caught her retreating hand with his own; all thoughts of propriety had fled with the exquisite sensation of having held Elizabeth in his arms. At that moment, Darcy ceased to be a gentleman with all the responsibilities and restrictions that the title imposed. Instead, he stood by the firelight as just a man, in love, his every instinct begging him to do what he could to show his concern for his broken-hearted lady, to show her with loving tenderness that he could make her happy for the rest of her life.

Darcy sensed that Elizabeth did not want to leave him, that she still desired to return to her rightful place in his arms, but that her innocence and dignity prevented her. So he closed her cold hand in his and squeezed, pressing it up against his chest so that she could feel his heart beating beneath it.

Elizabeth's pulse raced, and she felt her breathing quicken at the feel of Darcy's heart beating beneath her fingertips. She blushed when the unbidden image of her pressing her lips to that place where her hand rested invaded her innocent mind. She looked down to hide the longing that she felt – confused at the heightened feelings that plagued her at just the merest of touches from him.

"Please do not leave on my account, Elizabeth," he spoke hoarsely. "I do not want you to have to face this sadness alone. Will you not talk to me about what has occurred? You cannot begin to imagine how much I regret not being there for you when your father was taken ill, so that I could have prevented this madness with Charlton. Shall we not sit together on the chaise while you speak of it?"

"Mr Darcy, I thank you for your generous offer, but I do not wish to burden you with my troubles," Elizabeth whispered, attempting to draw her hand from his restraining grasp. She sighed and felt her body melt when Darcy took that same hand and pressed a warm kiss to the back of it.

"It is no burden, Miss Bennet. Please, I wish to know everything..." He pulled her gently towards the chaise and watched her seat herself on it before coming to sit beside her, releasing her hand and making no move to touch her again.

* * *

Mr Bingley took a long drink of his brandy. He sat in his chair by the fire, knowing that he should sleep, but still reeling from the happenings of the day.

He hoped that Jane was finally asleep, after an earlier bout of tears as she fretted about the fate of her sister. Bingley had spoken all the right words, unsure whether or not he could believe them himself.

But Darcy was a resourceful man, and he loved Elizabeth Bennet more than he had ever loved anyone. In fact, now that he thought about it, Bingley had never seen Darcy lose his head over any woman – and he had believed that he never would. Bingley smiled as he remembered the way Miss Elizabeth had spoken to Darcy at Netherfield when they had stayed all that time ago – her impertinence and her outright disdain, only barely concealed by civility and her good breeding. It was no wonder Darcy had fallen for her, Bingley mused. Elizabeth Bennet had, no doubt, shown more spirit than any other woman that Darcy had ever known – _she_ would not be swayed by his wealth nor his position in society. No, Elizabeth Bennet would make a perfect companion for Darcy. If only he could find her before all was too late.

Bingley drained the contents of his glass and made to stand. In just a few short hours, he would be awoken by a servant, to commence the early morning journey to London with Jane at his side. Mary and Kitty would remain at Netherfield under the careful watch of his housekeeper, his sister Louisa, and his man who would accompany them when they left the house to visit and tend their father at Longbourn.

All was in hand, and tomorrow – nay later today, given the hour – they would discover the fate of Elizabeth Bennet.

* * *

Elizabeth was curled up on the chaise, her bare feet tucked under her as she sat heavy-lidded beside Darcy. In her small hands she nursed a glass of brandy, given to her by Darcy as she related the horrors of Mr Bennet's apoplexy and incapacitation, Mrs Bennet's cruelty following Elizabeth's refusal of Mr Charlton's proposal, and the terror that she had felt at being forced into the carriage – sold by her mother's hand.

At first, she had resisted the liquor, the taste of it burning her throat as it moved down. She drank only a few sips, but it was enough to warm her in the absence of Darcy's touch which she so longed for. Darcy, however, had maintained his distance, sitting just a touch closer to her than propriety allowed, but his eyes had never left her form as she told her story, and more than once, he had reached out as if to caress her, pulling back at the last moment.

"I do not know how you have borne this suffering, Miss Bennet. Did not your sister notice what was occurring when the carriage arrived?" he spoke with concern laced through his tone.

Elizabeth shook her head sadly. "I thought it strange when Mamma told my sisters to visit with my Aunt Phillips – was it only this morning?" she paused, the exhaustion of the long day threatening to overcome her for a time. "She must have arranged it so that nobody would witness it. I know not what story she told my sisters for my absence, but I am afraid I despaired that they would not think to question her over it."

"Bingley informed me that your sister Jane found your necklace, and then she was convinced that something was amiss – enough to investigate further, and it was then that she realised what your mother had done." Darcy shifted slightly closer and removed the still full glass of brandy from Elizabeth's grasp.

"I was convinced that you would believe I had run away with him..." she spoke in a whisper, eyes downcast, unable to bring herself to meet Darcy's intense gaze. "Or that you would just never know what had occurred. I feared that I would never see you again."

"I am only grateful that I was there, Miss Bennet." Darcy watched as Elizabeth finally raised her eyes to his, and their gazes caught, love and deep awareness in both of their expressions, though yet unspoken. "I confess that when Bingley mentioned that you were with him, I had a brief moment of doubt. But I soon expelled the notion that you would consider an elopement. I had too much faith in you to believe that you would abandon your family and your father in their time of need."

Tears welled in Elizabeth's eyes again, and Darcy regretted his words, and unable to resist any longer, he took her hands in his and held them tightly. "I hope that Pappa does not think that I have abandoned him at this dark hour. I pray that he lives still. and that, if he cannot survive, I shall have one last chance to say goodbye."

"I pray for that, too. But you must not believe that he would think anything but love for you, Eliz... Miss Bennet. He knows that you would not hurt him for all the world."

"Thank you, Mr Darcy. But will you not..." Elizabeth paused, blushing as she considered her next words.

"Hmmm," Darcy encouraged her to continue with his sound of enquiry.

"I hope you will not think me too forward, Mr Darcy, but will you not call me Elizabeth?" She noticed Darcy's eyes widen, and she stammered, "If it does not please you, do not worry. I just... I liked it when you said my name... I..."

She could not speak further as Darcy interjected, "It would give me very great pleasure, Elizabeth." She smiled up at him through her tears. "How are you feeling? You must be exhausted." He ran his thumbs in a soft caress over the back of her hands where he had them still clasped in his. Concern furrowed his brow and filled his deep brown eyes as he looked at her.

"I confess that I am tired, and that I wish not to speak any further of the trials of the past week." Her eyes closed for a brief moment as she fought sleep, and then opened to focus hazily back on him.

"Shall I escort you to your chamber?" Darcy asked.

"No..." she whispered, eyes again closing briefly. "I do not wish to be alone. I want to stay here with you. I can stay awake, I promise I can." The words were murmured sleepily, and Darcy smiled tenderly, knowing that she would not be able to fight it much longer. He knew that he should insist on taking her to her chamber, but he could not resist the lure of having her sleep beside him. A hand reached out and ran gently through the thick, auburn curls that had started to fall down over her face in her daze, and he smoothed them away, his heart leaping at the soft sigh of pleasure that was on her lips at the touch.

Elizabeth fell peacefully into sleep, though fight it she did, not noticing as she succumbed that her head moved to find Darcy's warm, unresisting body, and her hand reached out to twine itself with his. It was thus that Darcy watched her with adoration, her beloved head resting on his chest, and he too slept.

_Please comment! _


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Darcy was awake. It was only two hours ago that Elizabeth had fallen asleep against him in his library, and Darcy, too, had slept for a time. He had woken a few minutes earlier when Elizabeth had spoken in her sleep and then moved against him.

Elizabeth's head rested against his abdomen, a cushion separating him from the feel of her soft skin and luxurious hair. Darcy was thankful that he had rearranged her onto the pillow, because he was not sure he could have endured the sensation of her against his thin shirt without taking liberties that he should not.

As it was, he was more than content to gaze down at her. In sleep, Elizabeth was exquisite – and he cherished the time that he could spend just observing her in a way he had never had the opportunity to do so before. Usually, when studying Elizabeth, he had been forced to look away whenever she caught his eye – interrupting his unswerving admiration of her graceful movements, her light figure and her beautiful features.

This night, as her hand was wrapped securely in his own and her trust of him so absolute that she slept against him, Darcy took his fill. Her shapely legs were tucked up beneath her simple muslin dress that could do nothing to disguise her narrow waist and womanly curves. Her neck was pale, long and elegant, her lips red and slightly parted to show a glimpse of perfect white teeth. Dark eyelashes feathered down over cheeks pinked with sleep, and if Darcy closed his eyes, he could perfectly envision her sparkling chocolate brown eyes dancing up at him or full of deep emotion, brimming with tears. She had a high forehead, covered at this moment with tendrils of curling brown hair, so soft and perfect. Darcy had long imagined his Elizabeth with her hair unbound, and tonight when he had finally seen it in reality, he had almost come undone. Darcy let the fingers of his unoccupied hand move to Elizabeth's forehead, and he gently smoothed the hair from her face, letting the silken strands run through his fingers_. How he loved her._

Elizabeth stirred, a soft sigh emerging as her eyelashes fluttered open. In her state of sleepiness, surrounded by a delightful warmth, she felt safer than she had ever felt before. For long seconds she knew not where she was, imagining her bed at Longbourn and a morning walk awaiting her. Her eyes blinked open, a blissful smile on her face as she stretched against the warmth that held her.

Elizabeth realised where she was in a heart-stopping moment. Immediately she leapt into a sitting position, horrified that she had fallen asleep on Mr Darcy. He must think her so shameful, Elizabeth cried to herself, as a deep blush came into her cheeks and spread onto her neck. Indeed, Elizabeth felt that her whole body must be blushing with embarrassment.

"Mr Darcy," she exclaimed, when the gentleman moved in response to her frantic attempts to separate herself from him. "I cannot begin to apologise for imposing on you in such a manner. I should not have fallen asleep. Oh, what must you think of me?" Elizabeth stared determinedly down at the floor, her sensibilities causing her no small amount of discomfort at the situation in which she found herself, however innocently. She attempted to withdraw her hand from within his, but Darcy merely smiled playfully and tightened his grasp.

"Elizabeth," he spoke, unwilling to return to his earlier formality of calling her "Miss Bennet" after all they had shared this night. "Please do not distress yourself. I did nothing to stop you from resting against me. Indeed, I thought it best that you get some sleep, and I did not wish to be parted from you. I admit that perhaps I was selfish – for in almost losing you yesterday, I did not wish to let you away from my watchful sight."

Elizabeth gazed up at him and saw reflected in his eyes the earnest truth with which he spoke. He placed a kiss upon her hand. "Bingley is escorting your sister to London this day. I believe that they shall arrive very early, and as such, you should get some more sleep. But first, Elizabeth, I think that we must discuss your future..."

Elizabeth withdrew her hand from Darcy's hold and stood, trembling at the reminder that her future was uncertain, her reputation damaged, and her options limited. She walked over to the window, gazed at the moon, and closed her eyes in the hope that she would gain some strength for the conversation to follow.

Darcy moved behind Elizabeth, trying desperately not to become distracted by the enticing picture that she made, pale skin glowing in the moonlight, swan-like neck on display as she turned her closed eyes up to the sky. "Elizabeth, if you do not wish to speak of it, then we shall not." He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he did not.

"No, we must speak of it. I know this. I just wish that it was not necessary." She smiled wanly at him.

"I know. I wish the same, for your sake."

"I cannot go back to Longbourn. I do not think that I could ever face my mother again – nor could I imagine being able to forgive her for what she has done." Elizabeth shuddered. "I am afraid for Pappa, though. How can I leave him to her care? How can I be so selfish as to not return for him?" She wrapped her arms around herself, miserable in the decision that she would make. "But if Mamma finds out that I am not married, she would... I mean, she could not try again... could she?" The last words were but a whisper, and her eyes gazed up at him in a childlike appeal.

"Elizabeth, you cannot return to Longbourn – at least, you cannot return there alone. Your mother deserves none of your forgiveness nor your love. She has betrayed you in the worst possible way. Think not of Mr Bennet for a moment, for we can discuss the best way for you to see him later."

Elizabeth nodded and thought for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. "I suppose that Jane and Mr Bingley would welcome me into their home once they are married. I had thought that I might live with them... but I am afraid that I would have to see my mother. I could not hide away every time she came calling."

"Bingley is very angry with Mrs Bennet – I do not believe that she will be made welcome at his home for a long time. If that is your choice, you could stay with them quite safely, independent of your mother. But, I beg you to consider the other options," Darcy spoke.

"What other options have I?" Elizabeth asked, sighing as she realised that she would forever be a burden to her sister.

"You could live with your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner – I know that they would welcome you and keep you away from the reaches of your mother."

"Yes, I dare say they would take me in."

"The third option, the only other that I can see, is..." Darcy paused, clasping his hands behind his back to stop their trembling, "you could consent to be my wife, and I would ensure that you were happy and safe, and that your mother could not reach you without your explicit agreement." He stared at her, as Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock.

_Had she heard right?_ Elizabeth wondered. Had _Mr Darcy actually asked her to marry him?_ Her heart pounded in her chest, and her breathing quickened. She knew not what to say. Her heart urged her to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and take his offer before it could be withdrawn, thus securing her happiness for the remainder of her life. Her mind, the sensible part of her, could not help but stop her impulsive acceptance. For perhaps Darcy had proposed only out of guilt – perhaps because she had spent the better part of a night with him, he felt that he should make it right – or perhaps he was being kind, and knowing that she could not return home, was offering her a new home. She had to know before she could answer.

"I have three options then," she whispered, so softly that Darcy had to strain to hear her. "Which do you think I should take?"

She watched him and noticed that his eyes became guarded for a moment, his voice stiff as he replied, "I do not wish to influence you." _Did she not want to marry him then?_ Darcy wondered. He looked away, unable to bear a rejection yet again from the woman he loved. Only this time, he knew that his heartbreak would be worse. This time he loved her a thousand times more than he had in Kent – so much that he knew not how he would live without her.

Elizabeth reached out and took one of Darcy's hands that hung limply at his side. "Please," she pleaded, "I must know which option you wish me to take."

Darcy gazed deeply into her eyes trying to read the emotion that he could see brimming below the surface. In the end, he knew that to have any hope of winning her and getting what he wanted above anything, he would have to fight for her – and if that meant laying himself bare to her, then he would do it.

His hand closed around hers, and he stepped closer to her, his gaze intensifying until Elizabeth felt completely under his spell. She could not look away. She could hardly breathe. "Then marry me, Elizabeth?" Darcy begged. Elizabeth felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, and then fill slowly with fluttering sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. "Be my wife, my mistress, my partner in all things. Let me love you the way you _deserve_ to be loved. Let me give you everything that I own and teach you everything that I know, and you can teach me in return. I can make you happy, Elizabeth; I _know_ that I can."

"I..." Elizabeth knew not what to say. She was speechless. Bubbles of pure happiness rose up within her, an unexpected bliss that she had never before felt and did not think that she could ever feel again.

"Elizabeth, if you care for me even a little, please say yes. But pray, do not, I beg you, consent to marry me if you feel only gratitude or obligation. I do not think I could bear to love you as I do and not have some tender feelings from you in return. Say you care for me, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled, tears of exhilaration filling her eyes. "I do not merely _care_ for you, Mr Darcy. My feelings go so far _beyond_ caring that I believe they rival yours."

"What are you saying?" Darcy asked, breathlessness suddenly oppressing him.

"I am saying, sir, that I have loved you for a very long time – first hinted at when I realised how wrong I had been about you and your involvement with Wickham, then developing further when I saw you again at Pemberley, and fully grown by the time you returned to Longbourn. I knew then that I would love you for the rest of my life, and without you, I should never marry."

"Elizabeth," Darcy exclaimed. "You truly love me?" His eyes shone, his happiness now complete.

Elizabeth nodded and brought his hand to her lips, pressing a warm kiss against it. Darcy closed his eyes and let the back of his knuckles caress her soft, warm lips. "My sweet, warm, lovely Elizabeth. You have made me happier than I ever thought possible."

His hands moved up to frame her face, and Elizabeth allowed her eyes to close, revelling in the sensations that he was provoking with his touch. She tilted her head up and felt the moonlight on her skin, a small smile adorning her face, and a soft sound of contentment on her lips, as Darcy's thumbs smoothed back her hair. His lips came down upon her forehead and then upon her temple, upon first one eyelid and then the other, each of her soft cheeks, and then ever so slowly lingered over her waiting lips, before pressing down on them in a kiss of love, adoration and sensual promise.

* * *

Bingley watched his beautiful Jane worrying the entire way to London.

They had left Netherfield at a very early hour, just as the darkness had started to lift. Jane was anxious to get to her sister, and Bingley was almost as eager to reach London as she, feeling responsible for the Bennet sisters as the man of the family.

He spent the entire journey praying that Elizabeth would be safe with Darcy and that they would find everything as it should be. Bingley knew that Jane would never recover if her most beloved sister had been grievously injured in some way – whether it be emotional or physical.

Bingley spoke to Jane but little on the journey – both lost in their own reflections – but as always, he was ever conscious of her, paying attention to her emotions lest he be required to be of greater support to her.

* * *

Elizabeth awoke again to find herself in almost the exact same position as she had been those few hours previously, but this time, her heart full, knowing that she was to be Darcy's wife, she did not move immediately, instead allowing herself to revel in the feeling of his muscular body beneath her. Darcy's hand absently stroked her thick curls, and Elizabeth found herself wanting to purr like a kitten under his ministrations.

She opened her eyes slowly and gazed up into the dark eyes which smiled down on her. "Good morning, my dearest girl," he spoke.

Elizabeth smiled. "Good morning, Mr Darcy."

"Shall you not address me as Fitzwilliam, or William?" he asked, running a hand over Elizabeth's cheek.

"When we are married, I shall," she laughed. "Until then, you shall be Darcy."

Darcy made a show of grumbling. "So long as you cease with the infernal Mr..." he growled, and then broke into a wide smile.

"Elizabeth, I have something for you." Elizabeth sat up, content when Darcy pulled her close to his side so that their bodies pressed against one another. It seemed that he did not wish to break contact with her, a feeling she agreed with wholeheartedly, as lacking in propriety as it was.

"What is it?" she asked excitedly as Darcy pulled something from his shirt pocket.

He took her left hand and placed a ring on her finger. Elizabeth could only gasp as she stared down at the ruby and diamond creation, simple, yet so elegant and beautiful. It was exactly the ring she would have imagined selecting had she a choice. "It is exquisite," she said, eyes sparkling with tears as she thanked him.

"As are you." Darcy placed a warm kiss on the finger where his ring now rested. "So now it is official, Elizabeth. We are to be married."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, nuzzling her cheek against his chest.

"I intend to speak to Bingley about this as soon as he arrives, but I wanted to be sure that you are happy with the arrangement first. Elizabeth, I think it best that we do not wait to marry. With everything that has occurred, it is important that we do not delay. I took care of Charlton, but if any hint of your not being married to him reaches your mother's ears, I fear that she will try to plot to rectify the situation."

"Yes, I believe that you are right; it would be best," Elizabeth replied. "After spending the night together, as innocent as it was, I fear that we have flouted propriety, another reason not to delay." She paused. "There is also the question of Pappa. He is very ill, and the doctor believes that he will die very soon. If we delay, I do not know how we could get married until my official mourning period was over. I would wish that we could marry and then travel to Longbourn so that I can show him how happy I am. I spoke to him of you, Darcy – he seemed content to know that I loved so worthy a man. If he is to die, he should know..." her voice trailed away.

"He _should_ know, Elizabeth. We shall travel directly to Longbourn the day following our marriage. I shall see about securing a special license today, my dear, and if it is possible, we could marry this afternoon?"

"So soon?" Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat, but excitement curled in her belly. She smiled and nodded her agreement.

Darcy placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her lips towards him. He leaned down and inch by inch lowered his lips above hers, smiling as he saw Elizabeth's mouth quivering in anticipation. His lips covered hers, and they shared a loving kiss – one and then another. Just as Darcy was coaxing Elizabeth to open her lips for him to enable him to deepen the kiss and show her what pleasure was to be had, he heard a shocked feminine gasp.

Elizabeth pulled away quickly. She, too, had heard the sound, and immediately recognised it to be her sister Jane. Darcy and Elizabeth looked over to the door, and blushed furiously when they saw Jane staring at them in astonishment, Bingley one step behind with a smile of wry amusement on his face.

* * *

"Jane," Elizabeth exclaimed, getting quickly to her feet.

"Oh Lizzie, thank heaven that you are safe!" Tears came to Jane's eyes and she stepped forwards and threw her arms around her sister.

Elizabeth returned the embrace, truly happy that Jane was before her. Darcy, knowing that his presence was superfluous, bowed and with a glance at Bingley announced his intention to quit the room to leave the ladies to their reunion. He placed a gentle touch on Elizabeth's hand on his way out, and she gazed at him in adoration, smiling as he closed the door behind himself and Bingley.

"Jane, how is Pappa?" Elizabeth asked in concerned tones, drawing her sister to sit beside her on the chaise.

"He is very unwell, Lizzie. I only wish I had better news to tell you. I saw him last night, and he looked to be clinging onto life by a mere thread, dearest."

"Oh, he must be wondering where I am. I only pray that he does not think I abandoned him," Elizabeth cried, her grief mounting as she came to the full realisation that Mr Bennet would not be with them for much longer.

"Lizzie, do not distress yourself. Pappa has not awakened since yesterday afternoon. The doctor says that he has slipped into a coma that he is unlikely to wake from. He told us all to prepare ourselves," Jane whispered and held out her arms to offer Elizabeth comfort.

Elizabeth cried for her father and for all that she had been through, all the while her hair stroked by Jane's loving fingers. "Oh, Jane, how shall we bear it when he leaves us?" she sobbed.

"We shall all of us find a way – you, me, Mary and Kitty – together. We shall never forget our dearest Pappa..." Jane's voice trailed off, her own emotions overwhelming her.

"Oh, yes, Jane. He will always be in our hearts. And you and I will have our husbands to stand beside us," Elizabeth spoke passionately. She pulled back and the sisters gazed at one another.

"Lizzie, you mean... you and Mr Darcy?"

Elizabeth nodded, a smile breaking through her sadness. She held her be-ringed finger up for Jane's inspection. "He proposed to me last night after he had rescued me from Mr Charlton. Had he arrived just a few minutes later, it would have been too late, Jane. Mr Charlton was forcing me to marry him – we were in the middle of the ceremony... and then, Darcy came, and he took me away, and though I assumed that he would never want to see me again after my reputation had been so thoroughly compromised, he told me that he loved me more than ever. It was so romantic, Jane. We shall both of us be so happy."

Jane sighed, gasped and exclaimed by turn as she listened to her sister's story. Her eyes shone, and she was relieved beyond belief to see that Elizabeth had finally fallen in love – completely, passionately and irrevocably in love – with a man who truly deserved her.

"Lizzie, I can hardly believe the intensity of the love that you have for each other. Charles told me of how Mr Darcy was beside himself when he told him of your peril – he said that Mr Darcy vowed to find you. And find you he did, Lizzie. I am only glad that I realised in time that Mamma had lied to me."

Shadows filled Elizabeth's eyes as she thought of her mother. All that she had done could never be forgiven. "You found my necklace then?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, I did, but I was suspicious long before I found it that Mamma's explanation of your absence did not ring true. I knew that you would not have planned to visit our aunt and uncle with Pappa so ill, and you would not have kept it from me. Until I found the necklace though, Lizzie, I could not piece it all together." Jane reached into her bag and withdrew Elizabeth's beloved cross necklace and handed it to her.

"Jane – it was _you_ who saved me then. Darcy would have had no idea if you had not discovered our mother's betrayal. Thank you." Elizabeth kissed Jane's cheek. "You realise, Jane, that I can never forgive Mamma for what she has done? That I shall not be able to return to Longbourn?"

"Oh, Lizzie, I had not thought of that. When Charles found out what Mamma had done, he removed Kitty and Mary and myself from Longbourn. He planned to have Pappa moved also, but he was a great deal too ill to be moved. He employed one of his footmen to accompany us if we travelled to Longbourn to tend to Pappa – he did not trust Mamma with any of us for fear of what she might do."

"It is only _I_ that Mamma seems to hate," Elizabeth spoke bitterly. "I believe that at least Kitty would be safe with her, though if she had an opportunity to offload poor Mary, I believe she would take the chance. Darcy and I are to be married as soon as a special licence can be obtained, Jane, and then he has promised to take me to Longbourn to see Pappa. I dread the thought of having to see Mamma, but I cannot be so selfish as to let that keep me from Pappa in his hour of need."

"Lizzie, you are anything but selfish, and you have always said that _I_ was the good sister. I believe that I will struggle to forgive Mamma for what she has done, and I do not know if I could bear to be in her company for even a second, but you talk of going to Longbourn with such calm. I know that Kitty and Mary are both terribly upset with her also, and Charles is determined to keep them away from her." Jane gazed at Elizabeth with concern.

"I could not bear it if Darcy were not at my side. With him, I feel that I can face anything. And though Mamma tried her utmost to sell me to Charlton, it did not come to pass, and while I find myself beyond happiness at the love that Darcy brings to my life, I cannot dwell on what _almost_ happened. I shall endeavour to forget it, Jane, but I shall never willingly place myself in Mamma's path again."

A knock at the door heralded the entrance of the two gentlemen, and Elizabeth and Jane rose to greet them. They each stepped towards their fiancés.

Darcy took Elizabeth's hand and pressed a reverent kiss to the palm. "I have spoken to Bingley of our marriage, my courageous girl, and he has requested that I try to obtain a special licence for him and Miss Bennet also. He is speaking to your sister now to gain her approval of the plan. I have sent urgent notes to my two most influential friends, in the hopes that they will assist me in acquiring the licences. I shall call on them directly and then attend the Archbishop to plead my case. You should be prepared, dearest, to be married this afternoon if all goes well."

"I shall be your wife," Elizabeth exclaimed as if suddenly coming to the realisation that her dreams were coming true. She smiled.

"Yes, you shall – at last!" Darcy smiled at her in return, and Elizabeth could not help but reach out her hand to touch the deep dimple that creased his cheek. "My housekeeper is seeing to all the arrangements, and she informed me that a seamstress will be attending shortly to outfit you and your sister for your weddings."

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth whispered. "You did not need to do that."

"On the contrary, my dear. I want you to feel that this is indeed your wedding day, instead of a hushed affair to be ashamed of. If I could give you the wedding day of your dreams I would, Elizabeth, but instead you have little time to prepare yourself and no family to attend. Please, let me perform this small service for you – at least you can feel like a bride."

"I love you, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth whispered, and watched as he bowed, and with Bingley by his side, removed himself from the room.

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